#maybe rumbling contentedly too. it relaxes him

[virune]

silly idea: coffee beans are like catnip for the black arms. while shadow's reaction is mitigated, he still greatly enjoys the taste and smell of them. one time sonic spills coffee on himself by accident and shadow doesn't leave him alone until he washes it off

[dragon-ascent]

Touch-Starved

An account of giving Zhongli affection.

★彡domestic fluff, zhongli is baby

Normally, Zhongli is the one to shower you with affection and love. He makes amply sure that you feel cared for at all times, and that you know he loves you more than anything else.

But when you turn the tables, your husband shows you a whole new side of himself. He's been touch-starved for centuries, after all. Shower him with kisses all over his face, and he'll melt like ice cream on summer's hottest day. A low, deep rumble would reverberate from him, oddly calming to you as well. Who knew a god could crumble so easily at the hands of a mortal?

He even purrs when you cup his cheek! Just like a cat after a satiating meal curled up beside a window, Zhongli purrs softly, nuzzling your hand with his cheek. His eyes close in bliss, reveling in the softness of your touch and the affection it heralds. To him, there is nothing better.

...But when you finally retract your hand, don't be surprised if he huffs and opens one eye to stare at you unsettlingly - until you finally bring your hand back to cup his cheek, of course. Then he sighs contentedly and leans into your touch once more. He only needs this for a short while longer, after all. Maybe...six hours? Six hours more, and then he'll let you carry on with your day.

Zhongli's generally one to wake up early and get started with his day, but when particularly affectionate, he simply prefers to relax and sleep in if it means he can hold you for longer. When that happens, be sure to give him lots of good-morning cuddles; it lights up the Geo archon's day brighter than the sun.

In a marriage, standings such as god and mortal don't matter, as it is a contract between equals. Zhongli truly understands the meaning of this when you bring his head to rest on your lap, your fingers gently running through his silky hair. He could fall asleep right there on your soft thigh, and dream of all the peace and serenity he had fought all his life for, and it would still pale in comparison to the way he feels when he stares up at you smiling softly down at him, gazing at him like he's the very picture of love.

It puts a smile on his face, too. With your fingers lovingly tracing his skin, he truly feels like the embodiment of love.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Could I request our favorite otp kissing in the bathtub in the regency AU? Maybe even smutty times in the bathtub?

yes......yes i can do that M......

The water roiled with steam, rose petals swirling. It was a bath Veronica initially intended to take by herself, thinking her husband away on business to town. But then he walked in on her submerged to the chest in the metal basin — and nothing in the world could stop him from joining her. 

It somehow made it all the more relaxing. Leaned back against Jacob’s strong chest, his breath against her ear, his fingers working through the knots in her hair. The windows to their rooms that overlooked the gardens were open, white curtains billowing with the breeze. 

Veronica sighed contentedly as she leaned back into her husband further. 

“Happy, Mrs. Seresin?” he asked, voice nothing but a quiet rumble. 

“Incandescently,” she sighed back. 

He chuckled as he tilted her chin in order to press a delicate kiss to her lips. Barely there. Gentle. Full of love unspoken but known. Veronica twisted in his lap, water threatening to spill over the sides of the tub, until she was turned to face him completely — knees on either side of his thighs. It was a tight fit in the basin, but they made it work. 

Jacob smiled as he tucked her damp hair behind her ear. “You truly are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld. Tell me, how did I get so lucky?”

“The question truly is how did I get so lucky to have you as my husband?” she questioned back as she trailed kisses along the line of his jaw and down his neck. “One who is so thoughtful, so kind, so brave, and so true. Who is so good to me.”

Veronica felt his cock jump to life against her inner thigh and it made her smirk against his collarbone. His hands smoothed up and up her thighs until he found purchase on her hips, driving her core down to his quickly hardening length. 

“You are so good to me, Mr. Seresin,” she whispered in his ear and he shuddered.

“Please,” he breathed, hips rocking up into her — slipping through her slick folds.

She wasn’t sure if he was asking to be inside her or for her to keep talking, keep spewing the praise he so rightfully deserved. Maybe it was both. At least, that was what she decided as she reached into the water and aligned his shaft with her entrance. She sunk down onto him slowly, savoring every inch as she breathed through the stretch. Jacob’s blunt nails dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he groaned openly into her cheek.

“Feel so good. So full. You fill me up so well.” Veronica’s nails gently scratched along the back of his head, cradling him where he had buried his face in her neck. “I would stay here for an eternity with you. In this sunlight, in this rose-filled water, in this beautiful spring. I love you, Jacob.” 

Lifting her hips, she attempted to start moving along his length, bring them both to release. But she stopped when Jacob gripped her waist tight, his head shaking as she settled back into his lap with a furrowed brow. 

“Just stay like this, dear heart. Want — Want to be completely held by you. At least until the water turns cold.” 

Veronica nodded as she relaxed completely against him, wrapping him up in her arms as she stilled. The very tips of his fingers traced up and down her spine, dancing some pattern that only they knew. The temperature of the water slowly cooled around them but neither of them took notice. Too content and too in love.

[somnambulants]

strays

summary: Yelena has a thing for adopting strays. You have a weakness for giving her whatever she wants. word count: 1.2K

warnings: potentially has slight spoilers for black widow!

You love your girlfriend. You really do. 

You’d do anything for her that she asked. 

This is why when she starts collecting stray animals like an elderly woman that is particularly fond of antiques, about a year or so into your relationship, you decide to let it go. 

You don’t know a lot about her background —only what little information she voluntarily has given up — but you do know she’d never had pets, not as a kid or even as an adult and so you’re willing to indulge her in this.

It starts with a dog. 

Then another dog. 

And another. 

And then all of a sudden you have four dogs that sleep curled up beside both of you in your bed every night. 

You don’t mind that – you’ve always liked dogs. Maybe four is a lot – especially since they aren’t little dogs and may be more accurately described as small horses than dogs -- and the amount of hair that comes out of them is insane. 

But the way Yelena’s face lights up every time one of them comes bounding over to her for a pat is worth all the extra vacuuming you have to do.

And plus you love the dogs too, and after adopting four of them you kind of just assume that Yelena is probably content with that and you’ll live out the rest of your days as dog parents. 

 You’re right in a way but totally wrong at the same time. 

 A couple of months after adopting the last dog, you come home one day and as soon as you step inside the front door, you promptly lose your footing as you step on something, only just managing to stay upright by clinging to the doorframe. 

 A tiny little fish-shaped toy is what you’d tripped over, you realise and an orange blur chases after it as it goes flying across the room thanks to your foot. 

 What the -- 

 It’s a cat. 

Definitely a cat. 

You straighten up and close the front door, watching the cat as it pounces on the toy and then flips it into the air somehow. 

This is also when you notice the giant scratching post in the corner. And that you know for sure hadn’t been there when you’d left this morning for work. 

Comprehension quickly dawns on you. “Yelena!” 

Clearly having been already there, Yelena rounds the corner almost immediately with a look you’ve become all too familiar with on her face. It’s a sheepish, borderline guilty look. 

 Still clinging to the doorframe, you point at the cat with your free hand. “What is this?” 

She glares at you, covering the cat’s ears as she picks it up, cradling it to her chest. It blinks up at her contentedly and you can hear faint rumbling as it starts to purr. “He is our new pet. Meet Mr. Fuzzy.” 

 Mr Fuzzy? 

 You look at her, then the cat, then her again. Your girlfriend is still looking at you, now a little apprehensively, at your silence.

She visibly relaxes and grins at you when you reach out to run a hand through the cat’s fur though, seeming to sense that she’s won even though there was no chance of there ever being a battle. 

 Like you’d ever deny her anything she wants. 

 You sigh. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Fuzzy.” 

 It comes as no surprise when you return home a couple of weeks later and find that Mr. Fuzzy now suddenly has two stray kitten companions because, in Yelena’s own words: “he was lonely being the only cat and he needed some friends”. 

 You don’t argue and just silently add more cat food to the grocery list. 

 -- 

It’s a few months later, the cats are all settled in and surprisingly get along with the dogs quite well, when Yelena seems to decide you needed yet another pet. 

Only this one is less fluffy. 

She returns home with a cardboard box in her arms and before she even crosses the threshold completely, you can hear something shuffling around inside the box aggressively, as though it’s trying to escape. 

 As she gets closer you realise there’s words on the side of the box: randy’s reptiles. 

 Oh no. Your heart sinks. “What’s in there?” 

 You have a sneaking suspicion you already know and that all the books on snakes that she’d been reading the past few weeks weren’t just out of pure interest like you’d thought. 

 You want to kick yourself a little for being so naïve. 

 The shifty look on Yelena’s face all but confirms what you’re thinking. Then she undoes the handle of the box and opens it and yep – you were right that’s definitely a snake. 

 You suck in a breath, jumping up from where you’d been sitting on the couch and backing away. “No. Nope.” 

 The snake, having left the box, is now winding up her arm slowly. Yelena frowns at you. “Why not?” 

 “It’s a snake!” 

 “I know!” she exclaims, now grinning widely. She doesn’t seem to notice that the snake is now dangerously close to her neck. “Cool right?” 

 You grimace, trying to keep your voice from showing your fear. Snakes ate that up. You were sure of it. You can see the ruthlessness in this one’s eyes as its tongue flicks out every few seconds. It was basically taunting you. “That’s not what I’d call it, exactly.”

 “Oh, come on!” she begs. “The guy at the store said no one wanted him! He needs a home!” 

 She has a pout on her face that seems a little upset, but you know her well enough to know she’s not. She just knows that you’re the worlds biggest sucker and the second that it’s directed at you, you’ll fall apart and give in to whatever she wants. 

 And she’s right. Damn her. 

You bite your lip, eyeing the snake warily. “Fine. No more pets though.” 

The pout is now real. 

“But –” 

 You cross your arms. “No. More. Pets.” 

 So that’s that; Sheldon the snake quickly takes up the entire left corner of the apartment and he has every possible thing you think a snake could want as well as a steady supply of mice. 

You do have to admit, to yourself only – Yelena can never know -- that he is kind of cute for a snake. Like a little noodle. A little murderous noodle. 

With fangs. 

-- 

(Almost another year after that, after being surprisingly good about following your ‘no more pets rule’, Yelena rolls over one night while you’re in bed, sitting up on her elbows so she can look at you. 

You already know what’s coming by the speculative glint you can see in her eye, so you return your attention to your book, trying to finish the last sentence on the page before -- 

 “--can we get another dog?” 

You close your eyes and sigh. “We have four dogs already, ‘Lena. No.” 

 As if to solidify your point, one of the dogs that was curled up next to you lifts her head and turns to lick your check. Fondly, you give her a pat and she wags her tail happily. 

There’s a pause and you think that might be the end of it until: “...what about a tarantula?” 

 “No!”)

[seijorhi]

If you have the time and feel like it, I'd love to read anything from you about Shigaraki/Reader. (Or maybe Shinsou??)The first thing that came to my mind was something involving chikan but anything that you can come up with is totally good with me as well!!!! Love your writing!!!

This is like months late I am so sorry, bby!! But I hope it’s okay? 🥺

Shigaraki Tomura x Female Reader

TW chikan, non-con, nsfw

Dirty

Staring isn’t a crime. 

It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself as more and more passengers slowly filed in. There is nothing wrong. You’re being paranoid.

Staring isn’t a crime, but you’d feel a whole hell of a lot more comfortable if the pair of red eyes boring into you from across the train carriage weren’t accompanied by a creepy, wide grin.

You tell yourself that you’re imagining things, that you’ve read one too many shoujo mangas, because the silvery haired stranger in his ratty oversized hoodie just happens to be facing your general direction, so of course it feels like he’s staring. It doesn’t stop you from trying to tug down the hem of your skirt.

Except when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and you decide to bite the bullet and scamper across to the other side of the carriage under the guise of getting off, the stranger follows. 

He’s only staring. You’ve heard about men who like to scare girls on public transport, how they… get off on it. But the stranger seems content just to watch. There’s a Nintendo switch sticking out of his hoodie pocket, but in the fifteen minutes you’ve been riding together, he hasn’t made a move to touch it - while everybody else on the carriage is either sleeping, reading or absorbed in their phones, the stranger’s attention is fixed entirely on you.

He’s enjoying it, you think - your discomfort. The way you shift and try to subtly curl in on yourself, hiding behind other passengers, how your eyes keep darting up to see if he’s still watching (he is) before shifting your attention back to the phone in your hands. Should you text somebody? Your best friend, maybe? And say what exactly, ‘help, there’s a creepy looking guy staring at me on the train, please come get me?’

There were at least twenty other people on the carriage with you, and not one of them has noticed the silver haired man staring at you - or if they have, they’ve promptly dismissed it as nothing to concern themselves with. You’re working yourself up over nothing - he’s only doing it trying to get a reaction out of you.  

You don’t want to cause a fuss over nothing.

Breathing deeply, you decide to simply not give him the satisfaction, turning your back on him to face out the window by the doors instead. You still have another twenty minutes left of the ride until you reach your stop, with any luck he’ll lose interest soon enough.

At the next station, the doors slide open and a swarm of commuters flood into the carriage. You’re bumped and brushed past, jostled about as more and more passengers try to fit onboard - it’s uncomfortable, but for once you find yourself grateful for the teeming crowds. With enough people squished between you and the pale, hoodie-clad stranger, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that he’s probably lost sight of you (or at least the parts of you he’s interested in leering at) and allow yourself to breathe and just relax-

Until a sudden jolt of the carriage sends you reeling into the chest of the commuter behind you. 

On instinct you turn your head to glance over your shoulder, apologies ready on the tip of your tongue,  only for them to turn to ash in your mouth as you meet bloodshot vermillion eyes and a wide, unsettling grin.

“Whoops,” he chuckles, the sound dry and rasping, like nails raking down a chalkboard. “Better be careful, now. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.”

Your breath catches and you still, but there’s no room for you to move as pale, spindly fingers creep across your waist, sliding down the pleated fabric of your skirt. A tiny whimper, lost almost immediately to the droning hum of the carriage as it jolts along the tracks, escapes as rough fingertips graze the top of your thigh, dragging your skirt upwards in search of another prize. You feel the chest pressed against your back rumble with another laugh, dry, chapped, lips dragging possessively against the curve of your neck, and a deep, shuddering inhale.

(Is he sniffing your hair?!)

“You might wanna hold onto something, princess,” the stranger jeers. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, a deep, unsettling pit growing in your stomach. This isn’t staring - this isn’t harmless anymore.

He’s got you caged between his body and the doors, one arm shot out over your shoulder to brace himself, the other creeping up towards your panties with agonising slowness. There’s nowhere to go, but for the life of you, you don’t know why you can’t seem to make a sound. Your legs are quaking, heart thumping unsteadily as long digits probe at your panty covered sex, dragging teasingly against the outline of your slit. All it would take is a shout, a yell, and somebody would intervene - packed train or not - but despite the icy fear seeping into your veins, the rising panic as your pretty lace panties are yanked to the side, your cries are caught in your throat.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation as long digits roughly slither between your plush pussy lips. You’re not wet - how could you be? - but that doesn’t seem to bother the man violating you, not as those same fingers greedily tease at your hole for a split second before they plunge inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your crude circles around your clit like it’s a joystick. You wonder if anyone has noticed the hitch in your breath, the soft, whimpering whine that you can’t quite hold back as he fucks you on his fingers, stretching you out. Facing out the window, there’s nobody to see the tears that spill down your cheeks, the way your features contorts in pain - and something else - as his fingertips press and drag along your warm, tight cunny walls.

There’s no rhythm or technique as he roughly mashes his palm against your sex, but suddenly it’s not so much an effort to speak out as it is to smother your own noises - the thought of somebody catching you like this, seeing him finger fuck you in on a crowded, public train in the middle of the day making you want to curl up and disappear entirely.

His fingers are stuffed deep inside of your pussy, fucking you in earnest, it doesn’t matter if you were willing or not, you let him get this far without so much as a peep. Who’s going to believe that you didn’t want this, weren’t silently begging for it - that with every flick of his wrist this stranger is raping you in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded train?

You bite down on your bottom lip, hands clenching into pathetic fists at your side as the man behind you moans and grunts in your ear. There’s something hard and warm pressed against your ass - it takes you a moment to realise that it’s his cock, and his hips are rutting eagerly against your backside. 

His panting breath tickles at your neck, “Gettin’ all nice ‘n wet, such a good little slut. You -hah- you enjoying this, princess?”

Revulsion rises like a wave, crashing through you, but you can’t deny the building slick you feel easing his passage - your cunt is all but drooling around his fingers. You can’t bear to look around to see if any of the other passengers have noticed, if they can hear the lewd sounds of him fingering you like a man possessed.

Your forehead falls against the cool, glass window, your eyes squeezing shut as more tears fall. It doesn’t make a difference, you can’t disappear into your mind and pretend that this isn’t happening, he’s making sure of it. His hips are grinding faster against the swell of your ass, his fingers picking up their pace in response. It’s like he wants you to cum with him, and when a third finger slips inside of you, crooks and slams against that sweet spot that has you gasping, you know that it’s not far off. 

“Tomura,” he pants desperately into your ear as he ruts up against you like a beast in heat, “Fuck! My n-name is Tomura.”

You don’t know why he’s telling you. Does he think you’ll cry it out as his thumb swipes messily at your clit and your tight cunny walls unwittingly squeeze down on his fingers? Or does he just want you to know the name of the stranger about to make you cum in a train full of strangers.

You don’t have time to ponder the question, not as his teeth sink into the tender skin of your neck to muffle his growls and his fingers speed up, that tight coil of heat in your core pulling taut and snapping as unwanted pleasure explodes like fireworks, overwhelming your system as you convulse and shudder around him. 

Your vision goes white, a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a moan leaves your lips.

Tomura snarls, riding out his own orgasm, warm cum spurting into his jeans as he all but collapses against you. For a moment, you two stay like that, his sweaty, larger frame draped over yours, his chest heaving, hand still caught up beneath your skirt.

In the wake of your climax, shame and humiliation rear their ugly heads. You came, you enjoyed it, your own violation. No amount of reassurance that it’s just your body's natural reaction to stimuli can stop the rising disgust that surges through you so violently it threatens to choke you. You feel dirty - filthy and used - especially with Tomura’s face nuzzled in your neck, his tongue laving at your flushed skin, the blood welling from his overzealous bite.

His hand slides out of your underwear, using your skirt to wipe off the syrupy wetness that clings to his digits. You stomach churns in response as the train pulls up alongside the station platform, passengers once again jostling as they prepare to disembark. Even now you can’t force yourself to move, can’t shove him away like you so desperately want to.

You’re pathetic. 

He sighs contentedly, chapped lips curling into a smirk as the voice over the p.a announces the incoming stop. If Tomura notices the tears that wet your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, he doesn't pass comment, choosing instead to press a sickeningly sweet kiss to your temple as the train slows down to a halt.

“That was real fun, Y/N,” he coos gleefully. “We should do it again some time.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of exiting passengers, and your trembling legs finally give out.

[deaththesyd]

More Than Enough

Ah! Finally, I have managed to finish something! I hope this one doesn't disappoint. I really do feel proud of this one.

Summary: Standing here, watching the storm envelope this small space of theirs, a home that was just for them, being held and loved by the man who had forced himself into her heart was a dream come true. She could sip her tea as he littered her exposed skin in hickeys, bruises, and the faintest of bitemarks.

"Kisame!" Startled by his sudden presence behind her, the feeling of his large hands on her waist caused her to jump back into him, only to be met with the firm muscle of his chest, and his amused chuckles. "You could have said something! I could have dropped my damn mug!" She chastised him, still clutching the ceramic of freshly brewed tea so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She had been standing in their living room, watching as the grey clouds moved swiftly with the wind, threatening to unload the rain they carried down upon the land. He must have snuck up on her, mischievous as always, or maybe her thoughts had her so occupied she hadn't been able to notice his approach. Did it matter which it was? Not really, not when his chin rested on her head, and his large form engulfed her from behind, wrapping her somewhat chilled body in his comforting presence. Sipping her tea sweetened with honey, the warmth of the liquid was just enough to hurt going down, but the taste of faint spices was worth it. And if she didn't drink it now, it would surely be too cold later.

Outside, the clouds made well on their threat, and the first teasing droplets of rain fell. It started so gradually, but she seemed to blink and then the sheets of water were replacing the cute drops that had run down their window. The steam from her tea tickled her chin, as the man behind her moved to press sweet kisses starting from her scalp and down the back of her neck, sweeping the hair that blocked his access out of the way.

Smiling pleased to herself, she indulged in another long sip from her mug, as the rain pounded against their shelter, and Kisame's hand returned to her waist, his thumb teasing at the bottom of her shirt, tracing circles onto her skin. The heat from the tea wasn't the only thing that had her feeling warm, as his gentle trail of kisses turned more sensual against the side of her throat, and his heated breath accentuated the lingering buzz for each new mark he gave.

"I'm glad you're home with me, and not out there," she said, leaning her head to the side to give him better access, relaxing as his lips drew closer with each press to what they both knew was her sweet spot.

Another low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the movement shaking her along with him. "Hm, me too," he agreed, his voice low and gravelly below her ear. Despite how warm she felt now, his voice sent a shiver up her spine. Just when his mouth circled around a spot that had been bruised by hickeys so many times prior, a flash outside startled her, making her flinch, and causing his sharp teeth to scrape at the sensitive skin. Hissing at the unexpected pain, she stood tense, allowing him to pull away to survey the damage. A loud rumble of thunder nearly drowned out the low apology he whispered into her ear. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to move there, Squirt,” he uttered gently, before he lapped at the small scrape along her collar bone, easing a sigh from her lips in response. Now that she was expecting it, the next flash before her eyes didn’t catch her so off guard, and by the time the next clash of thunder bellowed out, his apologetic kisses and the rough calluses of his hand finally reaching up to her bare chest had drawn more than a few whimpering sighs. Apology more than accepted.

He was taking his time, making sure to find everywhere he could get a reaction, whether it was a hitch of her breath, or her simply adjusting to better allow his mouth to work. It had only been a short while since he had returned to his village and reclaimed his house, only a couple of months since the war, since the Akatsuki were officially disbanded. It didn’t feel real yet, that she didn’t have to worry about him being an outlaw anymore, that he didn’t have to slink around in the shadows completing illegal missions just to support a group whose goals had never truly made sense to her. Though he was often run ragged by the tasks given to him by the Mizukage, and his mood was often soured by the lack of freedom he had now, this was stable, and they could adjust. Standing here, watching the storm envelope this small space of theirs, a home that was just for them, being held and loved by the man who had forced himself into her heart was a dream come true. She could sip her tea as he littered her exposed skin in hickeys, bruises, and the faintest of bitemarks.

This was nice, but she wanted to put her mug down so she could return some of his affections. Looking towards the shelf just beside the window, she was calculating if she could reach it without having to move, when she noticed a problem. “Hun,” she gasped out, just as he pinched at her sensitive nipple, her urgency misunderstood as lust.

“You like that?” He teased, before nipping at another hickey, causing her to jolt at the stimulation.

“No! No, yes I mean, just-ah!”

“No? How about this?” His rumbling laugh blending with the almost constant thunder, while he teased at the delicate flesh, his rough fingers always so good against her skin.

“You feel good, but the roof is leaking!” She managed to get out, even as she could feel every bit of friction against her bud sending pulses of pleasure down to her clit. Abruptly, he stopped and released his hold of her to inspect where she motioned.

“Damn it,” He muttered under his breath before leaving the room to search for a fix. Sighing, she followed suit, placing her mug on the shelf and heading towards the bathroom for a towel to soak up the growing puddle. On her way, she passed a bucket that had been placed the day before as a short-term fix for another weak spot in the roof. For now, that was handling its job well enough. Returning, she found Kisame knelt down, placing a large pot under the steady drops of water that had managed to sneak its way in. “Looks like next I’m gonna have to do some roofing repair,” he grumbled, fed up with the neverending list of home maintenance they had to take care of.

Stooping down to join him, she lifted the pot and replaced it after laying the towel down, watching as the puddle of water seeped into the cloth. ”Ah, the joys of homeownership,” she sighed, standing up and placing a soothing hand on his broad shoulder. “We can tackle that task together tomorrow, no need to stress about it until then,” she said reassuringly, “I’m very much fine having to deal with a leaky roof if that means we officially have a place of our own,” she said sweetly.

Sighing, his large hand engulfed hers and took a hold of it, he stood, winding around to face her. The lack of frustration she had with the situation seemed to help him shake off the bad mood he had been put in, as he smiled lovingly down at her, bowing his head enough to kiss the back of her hand, before grabbing her by the waist with his other hand to pull her to his chest. Turning her head, she looked at their clasped hands, smiling contentedly. “I Don’t have a clue what I’ve done to deserve ya, but I sure am glad you’re here with me, Sweetheart,” Kisame said, the smile she couldn’t see audible in his words. Giggling, she gave his hand a squeeze as her free hand traveled to his ass.

“Since I make you so happy, you should probably get back to what you were doing before,” she suggested playfully. Laughing at that, he let go of her hand, and grasped her ass in return, picking her up without warning, forcing her to frantically clasp her hands behind his neck and lock her legs around him with a surprised squeak.

“If that’s what my woman wants, that’s what she’ll get,” he said with a devilish smirk, Normally, she would be upset at being picked up like that, but his hungry lips were upon hers before she could think up anything to say, and the feel of his tongue gliding upon her bottom lip was enough to melt any anger she had felt. Clinging onto his lips and his body, her eyes were closed, but she felt each step he made blindly towards their bedroom, and it wasn’t until her back hit the mattress that her eyes shot open.

Shoving him away frantically, Kisame was confused, but only for a second, as a cold droplet of water landed on his neck and trailed down his neck under his collar. The wet spot on the bed was small, but that didn’t matter, they had a leak directly above their bed!

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” He growled in frustration, the mood thoroughly spoiled now. His hand went to the back of his neck, and she rolled off of the damp spot, both for her comfort, and to give her enraged partner his space. The pelting rain was as loud as the thunder, but the sound of a single splat on his skin once again was deafening. He was up off the bed in a flash of lightning, and by the time the thunder roared again, he was coming back into the room with another pot. Without warning, he shoved the bed with her still on it, scraping wood against wood paired with a surprised shriek. Harshly, he placed the pot down and turned again to leave the room. Scurrying off the bed, she removed the dampened bedding while he thundered around the house, just finishing collecting the material in a bundle when he returned and threw the fresh replacements on top of the mattress. They landed with a less than satisfying ‘fwump’. Leaving the room with the soiled laundry, she took her time putting it into the washing machine, and when she was finished she returned to the living room, remembering her abandoned tea. The mug was cold now, and the liquid inside was surely the same, so she took it to the kitchen. After dumping the contents of the mug and placing it by the sink for later, the lights above shuddered and suddenly, they went out. She groaned as a loud yell of frustration sounded from the direction of their room.

Standing in the pitch black, she waited a moment, hoping the lights would come back on the same way someone would say ‘sike!’ but the longer she stood there, the clearer it was that the power was out. Sighing in resignation, she stumbled around, using the wall, and Kisame’s mutterings as guides back to the bedroom. As much as she hated his bad mood, it certainly was helpful in giving her direction in a place she hadn’t yet memorized. Feeling her way into their shared room, she lingered at the doorway, just able to make out the outline of a shadowed man rummaging around, most likely searching for a light source. Kisame had the better eyesight between the two, especially in the dark, but her memory wasn’t clouded with frustration and rage, and she could remember exactly where they had put away the lighter last time it was used and managed to walk over to where it had been placed without tripping or stubbing a toe. Flicking it on, she caught the attention of the helplessly searching giant, and let the flame go out with the slightest smell of burning oil, as she tossed it to him, knowing that he could catch it with ease.

With a grumbled “thanks,” he lit the wick of a sweetly fragrant candle that was settled upon the nightstand that hadn’t been moved in his little temper tantrum before, bringing a soft flickering glow to the room, and making the location of another candle of the same scent easier to locate. Still standing where she had retrieved the lighter, arms crossed, hip jutted out, she watched as the man tiredly flopped down upon the half-made bed with a defeated sigh. The storm outside wasn’t letting up, but the flared energy he once had was quickly doused as there was nothing left to do anymore. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, as she waited from across the room. “Minnow,” he called the pet name quietly, her signal that his temperament had truly settled and that he no longer required space. Without hesitation, she joined him, sitting beside his head and bringing a soothing hand to stroke his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, quieter than normal, “this is all such a mess and I owe you so much better than a leaky roof and a damp bed and a disappointing lead-up.” A large hand reached for the one stroking his head and brought her palm to his lips. He didn’t speak aloud, but the movement felt like he was making vows to himself and to her, she could easily guess what they were. Since the beginning of their relationship he had been making promises, ones that she knew he would always keep to the best of his power, and yet he never seemed to feel what he did was enough for her. He was so wrong.

Gently tugging her hand away, she felt for just the lightest moment his grip tighten anxiously, before releasing her. In moments like this, it was always so evident just how fragile his belief could be. Their trust in one another was strong, but he never seemed to be able to let go of the doubts that her love for him was only dependent on what he could provide. Part of her couldn’t stand it, how a man like him could cling to someone like her, that even after all of the fighting, the Akatsuki, the war, he didn’t believe he was enough as he was. That part of her was the one that brought her fingers to flick his forehead. She was gentle and soft, and of course, that was a surprise to him, so when he looked up at her confused and hurt only to find her stern gaze, he didn’t seem to know how to react.

The other part, the one that knew just how he felt, that knew that the hurt she felt watching him like that wasn’t something she could lash out with, returned her hand to his head. “You’re enough for me, and I’ll remind you of that for as long as we’re together,” she promised, allowing her gaze to soften only when the look of defiance on his face gave out. Kisame lay there for a moment, before shifting awkwardly, and crawling his way into her lap, burying his face in the softness of her stomach and wrapping his arms around her. Reaching for a pillow, she propped it behind her, settling into a more supported position, before tangling her fingers into his hair and rubbing his shoulders, giggling at the hum of content she felt buzz into her tummy.

“Remind me,” she heard his muffled plea come, and she couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across her lips.

“You’re more than enough for me, Kisame,” she said with a slight giggle, but the words were not a joke. “You always give me everything you can, and even right now I”m spoiled.” He gripped the fabric of her shirt, and she knew he wanted to protest, so she kept going. “You’ve been so busy dealing with the aftermath of everything, that you haven’t had the time for anything else, but still you make sure I have my favourite tea, and you treat me with a candlelit bedroom, and even though you’re tired and stressed you always make time for me,” she said, dragging her nails against his neck gently, earning a pleased shiver from him. “Yes, the house is leaking, and yes, I was very much looking forward to a bit more than a few kisses, but both of those can be fixed. We can figure out roof repair, and maybe not tonight, but hopefully for the rest of our lives we can have plenty more ‘fun’,” she reasoned, shaking along with the laugh he made at that last bit. When his short laugh ended, she continued. “You’re not a failure of a partner simply because we didn’t get our way tonight and you threw a bit of a fit, and you never will be because all you do is care for me and make sure I know just how loved I am. You’re so good to me, Love, you’re enough.”

It was then that she noticed how much quieter it was. No longer was there thunder, and whistling wind and the pounding rain had turned into a gentle pattering. The smell of pears and honey wafted from the melting wax, and the cold of the house seemed unable to penetrate the space around them for the meantime. Kisame’s breathing was steady and gentle, and despite the way the night had turned out to be, she felt quite content. This was their home. And it was more than enough.

[aster-aspera]

for writing: do what i do (:

just get really emotional and project onto characters. but like. in a fluffy way.

this is my way of telling you to make characters cuddle and love eachother.

maybe anxceit for projection reasons? (although if you take this idea i may overanalyse what you write for virgil...)

Oops, this one got a bit personal, but you did give me permission to project :)

Warnings: Bit of an existential crisis ig? idk tell me if it needs any other warnings

Pairing: (queerplatonic) anxceit

Janus was lying on the floor, watching the rain drip down from steely grey skies as the occasional gust of wind blew through the open window, shuffling the papers on his desk around. It picked up something he had been reading, pressing it against his door before letting it fall to the floor. Janus shivered slightly as the chill ghosted along his arms, caressing him like a lover, like a ghost.

Somewhere outside, the sun emerged from behind the clouds and the sky brightened just slightly, casting the grey world in golden light. The patch of sunlight let in by his window didn’t quite reach him, stopping just at his feet. Something in his chest stirred, tempting him to move and curl up in the light, letting the warmth fill the emptiness in his bones. The flame was snuffed out by the grey stillness in the rest of his body and he continued staring at the raindrops hitting his window, wishing they would wash him away too.

He imagined it, dissolving into the rain, being washed down into the soil and trickling between the rock layers, to eventually end up in a great ocean somewhere, a small drop amongst millions, insignificant in the vastness.

Maybe he needed to get up, do something else than have an existential crisis over rain. Or maybe he could stay here and hope that if he wished it enough, the world would disappear, leaving just him, alone in his room with only the rain for company.

His phone buzzed where it was laying on the ground beside him, jolting him out of his existential crisis. His phone overflowed with messages. People from classes pestering him about work, family asking him why he wasn’t talking to them anymore, friends worried about the fact that he hadn’t replied in days. He cast his hand about clumsily and grabbed his phone, turning off the sound.

He had no idea how long he stayed there, staring up at the heavens and rubbing his fingers along his stinging wrist. It was long enough for the sky to turn dark, the occasional star winking out from behind the clouds. It was long enough for the streetlight to switch on, the orange light illuminating the mist wreathing the streets.

There was a quiet, timid knock on his door and Janus looked up apathetically, brain trying to come up with a way to deal with the fact there was someone in front of his door.

“Janus?” Virgil’s gentle voice called, “I ordered dinner, you coming down?”

Janus felt something wet trace down his cheeks and he furrowed his brow in frustration. He didn’t want Virgil to see him like this. But his body stayed heavy and uncooperative on the floor.

“Janus, love, can I come in please?”

Everything in Janus screamed at him to say yes, to show all his broken, crumbling pieces to Virgil. He wanted someone to hold him, to tell him it would be alright. To tell him the lies in his head were just that.

And the other part, the sensible part, told him to wipe away the tears, to tell Virgil he was perfectly fine. It was selfish, to need Virgil to comfort him. To take his comfort when he could barely offer the same in return.

It seemed he took too long to reply, because Virgil pushed the door open, worry clearly written on his face. His eyes immediately locked onto Janus and the worry softened into concern. He kneeled down next to Janus, took his wrist in his hand and rubbed gentle circles into his skin.

“Bad day?” he asked. Janus just nodded.

“How about you go lie down in bed? This doesn’t look comfortable,” Virgil suggested. Jnaus tugged his hand closer, till Virgil nearly toppled over on top of him. He looked up at him imploringly. “Hugs,” he mumbled.

Virgil sighed, lying down next to Janus so he wouldn’t fall onto him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to Janus’s hair. “So needy,” he murmured and there was no reproach to his voice, just that familiar fondness. Janus felt something warm stir happily in his chest.

His body finally gave in and cooperated as he turned to bury his face in Virgil’s chest, hands gripping his hoodie tightly, almost desperately.

“This would probably be more comfy in bed,” Virgil chuckled. Janus whined plaintively. “Don’t want to move,” he groaned.

“You’re going to have to get up at some point.”

“No,” Janus said decidedly, “I’m just staying here forever. And you’re staying here with me.”

“As much as I would love to, we do have to eat.”

Janus gave him his most serious look. “No.” he said again, trying to hide his fond smile.

“How ‘bout this?” Virgil said, pressing another kiss to his hair, “You go lie down in bed, and I’ll bring up some food, and then once you’ve eaten we can cuddle for as long as you like.”

“Or,” Janus argued, “We could stay here and cuddle.”

“You,” Vigil said, leaning up on his elbow and flicking Janus’s nose lightly, “are absolutely impossible.”

Janus smiled up at him, realizing the sadness that curled up in his bones like a heavy fog had lifted slightly, the bright rays of sunshine that accompanied Virgil breaking through the grey.

“I love you,” Janus said, sudden and soft.

Virgil looked at him with surprise at the words. Then his face softened into the most beautiful smile and Janus wanted nothing more than to hold that smile in his heart, as a memory of the sunlight that chased away the clouds. He brushed the corners of Virgil’s lips with a soft finger.

“I love you too,” Virgil whispered, voice filled with so much love and warmth Janus felt like he was choking on it.

Janus pushed himself up off the ground too, groaning when his back protested. “Maybe the bed would be more comfortable.”

Virgil’s triumphant smirk almost made Janus reconsider the love thing. But then Virgil stood up with him and wrapped his arm around his waist, bumping their hips together playfully and he felt just as besotted as a few moments ago.

Janus sat down in bed and pouted at Virgil as he kissed his forehead, promising he would be back with food in less than a minute.

As soon as Virgil left the room, the grey settled back in and Janus dug his nails into his wrist, the sharp pain helping to drive away the fog. He closed his eyes, sinking into the pillows and straining to hear Virgil in the next room, clattering around in the kitchen.

Virgil reappeared in the doorway, balancing a tray filled with take out containers and two glasses of water, a heat pad tucked under his elbow. He sat down on the bed, placing the tray on the side table and giving it a stern look, as if that would stop it from toppling off the ridiculously small table. He handed the heat pad to Janus.

“Here, your back can’t feel too good after lying on the ground for so long.”

Janus scowled at him but accepted the heat pad, tucking it behind his back and melting into the warmth as it loosened his tense muscles.

Virgil sat as close as he could as they ate, their legs tangled together, their sides pressed into each other. Janus occasionally got an elbow in his gut but it was something he could bear for the sake of getting to sit so close to Virgil.

Once Virgil had put away their empty dishes, Janus took no time pulling him into a hug. He had waited far too long for the cuddles he had been promised. He crawled as close to Virgil as he could get, pressing his face into his chest and basing in the glorious warmth that chased away the cold chill of the rainy day.

Virgil pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and then another to his neck and cheeks. He slid down a bit, settling into the pillows more comfortably and adjusting Janus so his head was resting at his collarbone, his arms circling around his waist.

A warm weight snuggled against Janus’s neck, settling down on Virgil’s chest and Janus looked up with a smile as their cat started purring happily. Virgil scratched her ears gently.

“Next time you’re having a bad day, you know you can always just tell me, right?” Virgil whispered and Janus nodded. “I know,” He whispered as he closed his eyes, every sharp edge softening, melting into a puddle of warmth and contentement.

Janus woke up first the next morning, as he nearly always did, curling up contentedly in the mellow light of the morning, letting sleep soften the morning as he stared at Virgil, lit by the golden rays filtering through the windows they hadn’t bothered to close, hair sticking up in a million different directions, face relaxed and unguarded. The warmth of Virgil curled around him, the quiet of the city this early in the morning, it all threatened to drag Janus back into sleep. He probably would have given into it, if his stomach didn’t take that exact moment to start complaining.

He sighed softly, figuring he might as well take advantage of the situation to do something for Virgil. He carefully peeled Virgil’s arms from where they were tightly wrapped around him, shushing him with a soft kiss when he muttered something in his sleep.

He padded into the kitchen on bare feet, their cat appearing from somewhere and winding between his legs. He bent down to scratch her along her back, smiling as her tail curled around his arm.

He hummed softly under his breath as he searched through the cabinets for the ingredients needed for crepes, mixing the batter from memory, the movements ingrained in his memory. He put on some quiet music as he waited for them to bake, swaying along to the music, his eyes closed and his body relaxed.

Arms wrapped around his waist suddenly, startling him out of his reverie and he smiled as a kiss was placed at the base of his neck, Virgil’s gentle voice rumbling in his ear. “Good morning love,” he said, voice still rough and heavy from sleep.

“Good morning buttercup, I trust you slept well?”

“Mhmm, perfectly, definitely with you there.”

Janus turned to press a kiss to his cheek before going to flip the crepes onto a plate.

“And what did I do to earn this fancy breakfast?” Virgil asked, leaning back against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Can’t I just want to make my boyfriend some crepes?” JAnus said lightly, stacking them on the plate and setting them on the table. “I was mostly just in the mood to bake something, but making you happy is always a plus.”

“You’re so sappy,” Virgil chuckled as he sat down on the floor to pull the cat into his lap. Janus smiled at him as he smothered the cat in affection. “And you say I’m the sappy one.”

Virgil looked up at him, brow furrowed in adorable confusion. “What?”

The cat made a noise of protest and he returned his attention to her. Janus rolled his eyes and finished setting the table. “Once you’re done there, how about you come eat those crepes I so painstakingly made for you?”

Setting the table ended up being redundant, as they curled up on the couch to eat, the cat sandwiched between them and some cartoon Janus wasn’t paying attention to playing on the tv, talking quietly about all sorts of things.

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 14 - Changes

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Yelana caught the two boys from behind as they were telling jokes and laughing out loud instead of watching the herd. She cleared her throat audibly and the heads of both of them drove around scared. They both looked at her serious face and went white as a sheet.

Yelana's gaze wandered back and forth between them, then shrugged and said in a friendly voice, “You've got nothing to worry about, boys.” Their posture then relaxed a little. Then she pondered for a moment, swayed her head in her typical manner and finally looked at them a little arrogantly. “I need a reindeer, preferably saddled and harnessed, if possible please. I'm not that young anymore.”

The surprise reaction of the two of them was priceless for Yelana's taste, but didn't let on and grinned inside herself instead. The boys stood there frozen as if rooted to the ground and could not believe their ears.

“Come on, you two, I haven't got all day!” She made a wagging gesture and frowned apparently in annoyance.

The boys started moving and less than five minutes later a saddled reindeer was standing in front of her.

She took a closer look at the animal and the saddle and nodded contentedly at the end. Then she pushed her rod under the straps of the saddle and mounted. “Take good care of all of you,” she said to the boys standing there waiting and gave them a motherly look. Then she sighed and rode off without looking back another second.

“What did she mean by that? And why is she riding away anyway?” one of them asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't even know she could ride,” replied the other.

Both gazed after her completely perplexed.

~~~

The wagon rumbled along and nobody spoke a word. Even Olaf remained silent and looked at the passing landscape with a transfigured look. Everyone was lost deep in their thoughts except Elsa, who had fallen asleep next to her.

How could she sleep so calmly; Anna thought, and pondered the upsetting events as she absent-mindedly watched the sunset. On any other day she would enjoy it, but today it seemed to her as if it announced a night of mischief.

What would this Kolgrimr do with the Northuldra once he realized that they were already long gone and he could no longer carry out whatever plans he had in mind. She feared for the people there and if Honeymaren was right in her suspicion, they could not defend themselves against his magical powers. They would all be helplessly at his mercy.

Slowly but constantly anger rose in her. Couldn't anything go right for once in her life? Did something terrible always have to happen to them and ended up being involved? She looked over to her sister and envied her. Elsa's face seemed completely relaxed, she even smiled slightly. Was she dreaming of Honeymaren? What was between them? Of course she would not mind if a romantic relationship developed between the two of them. She knew that Arendelle was quite open-minded about relationships of this kind, there was even a married female couple, Ada and Tuva Diaz with two adopted children. What was most important to her was Elsa's well-being and she wanted nothing more than the happiness for her sister.

And now someone thought he had the right to get revenge for something they were both not to blame for. Anna cursed and at the same moment, frightened by her behaviour, held her hand over her mouth. The next moment, she looked into Kristoff's eyes, who had turned around to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You curse? About what?” he asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, it's not that important,” she replied quickly, waving off and feeling the situation as embarrassing. Kristoff now raised his other eyebrow, too. Apparently he didn't quite believe her assertion.

“You know you can tell me anything, honey. Just say it out loud. If I don't know what it's about, I can't help you.”

Anna sat down and nodded her head a little bashfully at last. “Yes, dear, I know, and cursing isn't usually my style either. I was just thinking about this Kolgrimr and why it is always us who are in the middle of the action and risking our lives. What do you think about this whole thing? You have been quiet all the way back and don't seem particularly frightened to me.”

Kristoff shrugged his shoulders. “We made it out of the woods in time, if all this is true, and we'll be home soon.” Then he remembered the conversation with Ryder when he warned him and he said, “I'm not worried about myself, Anna, but if there's anyone I really care about, it's you, honey. If anything happens to you, that would be the end for me, I  love you.”

Anna smiled, stood up briefly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Kristoff, my love. I love you too.”

They looked at each other in love for a while, and Anna actually forgot her worries about it. Eventually, he nodded with a smile and turned around again. She herself leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some sleep after all; she thought.

~~~

They had not yet completed a third of the way home when Kristoff saw a covered wagon approaching in front of him at some distance. He turned around and pointed it out to the others.

“Wake up, folks! Look who's coming.”

Anna and Elsa startled up, then stretched their heads and looked ahead while Olaf climbed forward beside Kristoff. “Mattias is here!” he exclaimed excitedly and pointed forward.

“They were pretty fast, though,” Anna murmured and rubbed her stiff neck because she had dozed off in an uncomfortable position.

“You haven't told me much about him,” Elsa replied without looking at her. “Except that he rode back specially to get help for me.”

Anna looked at her smiling. “The General is one of the most loyal people I know, and a fine fellow too. You'll like him.”

Elsa nodded, “I'm already very curious about him.”

A few minutes later the two vehicles, standing now directly opposite each other, stopped. The two drivers sitting on the coach box looked quite surprised. Mattias rode past them and jumped briskly out of the saddle when he was next to Anna.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted joyfully and bowed to Anna, who was now standing up at the back of the wagon. “You guys are already on your way back so soon, then I presume your sister's doing well again?” He peered past Anna to have a look at Elsa. Elsa bent over, looked past Anna and waved at the General with her arm half raised. “Hello, General Mattias.” She smiled at him and mustered his appearance with quick glances without seeming immediately curious.

Trygve and Kristina rose as soon as they saw their queen, smiled and bowed to her while reciting the usual greeting. Anna nodded to them in a friendly manner, but suddenly her worries came back to her mind and her face darkened.

“I am very happy that you are feeling better, Elsa,” said Mattias and returned her smile. Then he looked up at Anna again and his smile faded when he noticed her concern in her face. “Queen Anna, are you alright? Has something happened?”

She nodded, sat down again to be largely at his eye level and said, “Unfortunately, yes, General. We were informed by Honeymaren of a serious threat and had to flee in haste. Someone is trying to kill us.”

Mattias tore open his eyes and gasped, “What? Who? Please tell me everything!” Anna explained in short words what she knew, and his face successively expressed his moods, from amazement to serious concern to clear anger.

“The Council must be informed immediately, and the garrison put on high alert. This can't be true!” He clenched his fists and turned to the covered wagon. “Turn the cart around immediately. We must return as quickly as possible. We are in imminent danger.”

Trygve's and Kristina's jaws dropped and they stared first at him and then at each other in disbelief. Kristina finally nodded and jumped off the trestle. The trail wasn't too wide here so she took the horse by the harness and pulled it slowly around to realign the cart. Then she got back on and waited for Mattias to would ride ahead of them to set the pace. She looked at Trygve with concern and he put a hand on her arm reassuring her.

“Your Majesty, if you agree, we will refrain from equipping Elsa with the camouflage clothes we brought with us, because of the hurry. We yet could also do that shortly before Arendelle.”

Anna nodded and looked briefly behind her. “I think you are right about this, Mattias. We are still near the Northuldra area, so we should hurry.” She gave her sister a quick sideways glance and squeezed her hand before looking at Mattias again. “But we are not yet returning to Arendelle. We have to make a little detour first.”

Mattias raised his eyebrows questioningly. “A detour? Where to?”

Anna bent over to him, looked at him with big eyes and replied quietly, “To the trolls, Mattias, to the trolls.”

The general's jaw dropped and he couldn't say anything more. The day had started so beautifully, and from one moment to the next, everything turned into a nightmare. Trolls ... this can't be true; he thought, and shook his head in disbelief.

~~~

He could have taken her to Gyda. Instead, he chose his hiding place by the river. He preferred not to take any risks and Honeymaren as a hostage was very valuable, even in two ways; he thought, when he recalled the scene on the beach with her and that Arendelle bitch. He grinned as he nudged the young woman in front of him to make her hurry up.

“Faster! Don't dally like that.”

She took a quick look over her shoulder, both angry and anxious. Her hands were tied behind her back and she almost tripped forward when her attention was briefly diverted. But she caught herself in time.

“Don't try any tricks,” he said in a low but threatening voice. She nodded, but didn't say a word. That's good; Kolgrimr thought, as long as she was afraid it was easier to keep her at bay. Less work and more time to make new plans.

He couldn't get that boy out of his head, that brave little guy and brother of his captive. How could it be that he had not sensed the slightest thing, not even when he had actively and intensely tried; he thought. It was almost as if a ghost apparition had stood before him. He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. That was not good by any means. Not at all. Even with this strong-willed half breed from Arendelle, he was able to get to her spirit with a bit effort. But with him? There was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. And that worried him immensely.

~~~

At nightfall they reached a small, well hidden kota. Light fog was in the air and a soft splash told Honeymaren that they had to be near a river. She also knew roughly in which direction they had gone, although she herself had never been in this part of the forest. Then she suddenly became aware of exactly where they were and she drew in the air sharply. The home of the earth giants!

She looked around briefly to Kolgrimr and he just nodded wordlessly in the direction of the kota. She walked to the entrance and stopped in front of it. He reached past her, pulled the flap open and pushed her in roughly, so that she fell to the bare ground inside. Then the flap closed again and she was sitting in the dark. She heard him tie the loop of the flap to the outside of the hut, then it was quiet.

She tried to spot something inside the kota, but all she saw was a pale shimmer in the opening above her. She tugged at her shackles but Kolgrimr had been very meticulous and she could not loosen them. If only she had her knife now, which she always carried hanging by her side; she thought. But he had taken it from her, of course.

She struggled herself up into a sitting position, crawled around and systematically searched the floor, hoping to find something useful. But there was nothing, not even a fur, that usually came with every good kota equipment. All right; she thought, let's try the walls. She stood up and moved along the wall with her shoulder as long until she felt like she had reached the starting point again. With her head she had also cautiously checked the wall in addition. But there was no hook and certainly not anything hanging to it to discover. She sighed unnerved and stayed stood leaning against the sloping wall for a while.

What was he up to? What would he do with her? Would he use brute force? Most likely, the way she judged him. She wasn't usually the frightened type, but she felt her eyes get wet and soon after that tears started to flow again. She sobbed softly and finally sank back to the floor. There was no escape for her, it seemed. She decided not to exchange a single word with him. She would remain mute. Even if he should slap her, he wouldn't get anything out of her.

The minutes passed in the silence of the darkness and the minutes became hours. It already had to be in the middle of the night when the rain started. At first she could only hear the soft sound the drops made as they dripped down onto the kota from the branches of the tree above. But it didn't take long and the sporadic dripping turned into a steady hissing as the sky finally opened its sluices completely.

The monotonous noise sounded very calming and soon it made her very tired. So she curled up on the uncomfortable, hard floor and fell gratefully asleep shortly afterwards.

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa​

[kaminobiwan]

restraint

pairing: commander cody  x  reader

summary: you put Cody in his place. it just so happens to be in a chair. (or, more accurately titled ‘restrained’.)

warnings: a lil spicey, as all my tho(gh)ts about Cody are. sexual tension. the like.

a/n: dedicated to the sweetest person alive, @milliusprime​. happy birthday, shay, I love you :-) loose sequel to repreive, though I changed the reader to gender neutral. perhaps a trilogy in the making? the subtext of sub!cody be strong in this one.

taglist | masterlist | more gender-neutral fics

The next moment you get alone with him takes place on Coruscant.

You’d seen and talked to him a couple of fleeting times while on Geonosis, gotten close enough to see clearly that he hadn’t been too badly injured from the fray at Point Rain — or the mess that had been General Unduli’s rescue mission, for which you had yet to thank him properly for his instrumental role in saving your beloved assigned-Jedi.

You honestly don’t know why you still have a flat on Coruscant, given that most of your time is spent on the Tranquility or various command centers throughout the Outer Rim, but it’s times like these when you’re thankful to have a semblance of home to come back to.

Although, Cody fulfills that feeling better than any apartment ever could.

Gree had made sport of your visible enthusiasm at clocking out, lazing expertly along your desk as you closed out the rest of your tabs on the fifth datapad you’d held that day. His shift had ended hours prior, orienting the newest shinies to fill the ranks that had been lost since last shore leave. You know it’s a bittersweet feeling for him, meeting the replacements for his fallen brothers, so you let him stay whenever he seeks the company of someone who doesn’t share the face of those he’s internally mourning.

Usually that consists of him bothering you with mindless factoids of the newest fauna he’s become fixated on, but today, he’d burdened you with oversharing explicit details of his most recent passion party.

You’re closer than most officers are with their clone commanders, always have been, but your relationship had only strengthened since you’d covered for him the last time the 41st had been on Coruscant. After a rowdy night at 79’s, he’d been AWOL right until the hour before the Corps were scheduled to ship out, and you’d run into him sneaking back into the barracks covered in the bites and scratches of what had looked to be from multiple species, looking all too pleased about it.

That, and the fact that he’d managed to find out your secret relationship with his ori’vod after finding a yellow-painted vambrace in your cot after a late night of gossiping in your quarters on the Venator.

It was to your endless misfortune that Gree was as smart as he was salacious.

Gree was a good secret-keeper, though, and in exchange for not exposing him as a red-blooded slut to your General, he’d sworn to not tell anyone that you were sleeping with the revered Marshal Commander of the 212th. A tit-for-tat arrangement, on top of your friendship forged in the midst of war-borne ridiculousness and erudite pastimes.

“You know,” He’d grinned at you as you’d shrugged on your coat over your officer’s uniform, “if you and Cody ever want to add a couple people into the mix, I’ve got plenty of suggestions.”

You’d laughed — really snorted at the prospect. It wasn’t that you and the commander weren’t looking for ways to spice up your relationship, but you doubted Cody would be open to sharing your bed with one of Gree’s wild and unruly conquests. Far from prude, Cody wasn’t opposed to less than intimate (or perhaps increasingly intimate) situations, but you knew he had a certain preference for such activities.

Your lover was a particular one.

(Of course, you didn’t exactly fit into that specific preference perfectly, but you also liked to consider yourself more than someone who merely shared the sheets with Cody. A permanent exception, of sorts.)

As you’d respectfully declined the offer, he’d roped you into a one-armed hug and a squeeze to your shoulder. You’d bid him goodbye with a pat to his middle, and discreetly pocketed the durasteel rings you’d snagged from his utility belt as you’d separated from his side to hail a speeder home.

You figured Gree could survive without his stun cuffs for the night. It was the least he owed you after dumping images and stories about his sexual escapades you would never unhear.

‘Home’ is only a ways away from the GAR central headquarters, a short ride to the Residential district, and you’re stepping lighter and quicker than usual as you cross the steps to your entrance as the last rays of the sun tickle your exposed skin.

Not two seconds after opening the door, you look up with a start at the sound of muffled crunching by the sink, and surprise morphs into warmth when you realize it’s Cody, slurping quietly from the bowl he always seems to favor whenever he’s over. He shovels another mouthful in as you look on with barely disguised amusement, bantha milk dripping comically from the corner of his mouth. He’d beaten you here.

The initial stupor fades as you share a laugh, forgoing a greeting in favor of a well-placed jab. “So, not only did you stop by Dex’s and not get me anything, but you’ve perused my groceries as well?” He tries and fails to hide his smile behind his spoon, and you get in another verbal poke before he swallows. “Everyone knows Dantooine cereal is served dried for a reason.”

“I prefer it this way,” he mumbles, staring pleasantly at his evening snack. You know as much — Cody’s secretly a picky eater.

You tuck your coat into the fold of your arm before striding forward, wrapping the other one around his neck to pull him down for a sweet and milky kiss. He murmurs something unintelligible against you before reconnecting your mouths, and you hum contentedly as he balances the bowl to better curve downwards. “Hello,” you trill, tongue darting out to clean his lips. “You shower yet?”

He shakes his head, taking a moment to peer unreservedly at your face. His own brightens at your happiness to see him, and your chest swells at the sight. Unlatching from him quickly, you set your things on the table, making sure to slide them inconspicuously out of Cody’s reach. “Was waiting for you,” he rumbles as he kisses your palm.

Good. A thrum of satisfaction vibrates low in your gut as you hum, plastering a front of nonchalance across your features as he revels in the rare opportunity to drink you in. It’s hardly ingenuine, as his presence never fails to wash away the majority of your worries whenever you’re close. Even in the company of other people, which he sometimes seems to be physically allergic to.

You pat his cheek affectionately and watch him lean into your touch. “You tired?” As you inquire again, you reach for his bowl, holding back a retort when he maneuvers it out of your way. You continue speaking to his back as he turns and washes his own dish, always insistent on cleaning up his own messes. “You wanna sit down?”

He makes a noncommittal sound, but sits anyways after he cleans and dries, and you flock to his lap, presence adoring as it relieves him of any remaining stress of the day. You massage his shoulders without prompting, and he gazes up at you sincerely in thanks.

“Should I be asking how you managed to get a breakfast order from the diner at almost dinnertime?” You melt into his hold as his hands wander your back, uncharacteristically free from his combat gloves and armour. He’s down to his blacks, you realize, and a smile crosses your face at how perfectly the situation is falling into place. “Or is that classified information?”

He chuckles lowly, indulging in your lighthearted ridicules with prepotent comebacks of his own. “Maybe Dex just likes me,” he says, an intentional taunt to his voice. “Hermione always lets me order whatever I want.”

At the mention of Dex’s waitress, you bristle slightly, but respond cooly when he raises a challenging brow at you. He doesn’t usually make such insinuations, but it inspires a prickling jealousy despite. You watch the corners of his mouth quirk up when you reply. “Bet there’s a couple things she can’t give you.”

Cody simpers, far too smugly for your liking. “Maybe.”

You kiss him then, deliberate and vigorous, and he lets you, face angling to yours in an instant. He pushes up from the chair, stretching his torso to meet your touch robustly, and you fight off the daze that threatens to consume you after mere instants of his lips under yours. Lifting one eye open, you reach across the table for your coat pocket the same time you push your tongue into Cody’s mouth.

His grip tightens around your waist as you find what you’re looking for, and while he’s distracted by a few more gratuitous moments of clacking of teeth and brushing of tongues, you capture both of his wrists swiftly and secure them to the middle rung of the chair with a distinct snap.

You detach your from Cody as his eyes shoot open, claps holding tight as he wriggles his arms behind the back of his seat. You hold in a snicker at his expression, though by the ease of which you’d distracted him, you almost wonder if he’d purposefully let you lock him there.

“Binders?” 

“Stun cuffs,” you correct, only for the hundredth time. It was an ongoing argument between the two of you.

Cody rolls his eyes as per usual, so far that for a second, you only see the whites of his eyes before he fixes you with a flat stare. “Only COMMOs call them that,” he chides, managing to still sound authoritative even while cuffed beneath you. “I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, well, you’ve told me a lot of things.” You mimic his actions with a snarky look of your own. “I don’t always agree.”

As you shift in his lap, his eyes flash noticeably. The air thickens again in a second, and you feel your hands tighten around his thighs as he flexes the wide, corded appendage below you. You can tell he’s slowly relaxing into the seat, body loosening as he breathes deeper against your chest, but his last grasp at control doesn’t surprise you. Cody always seems to need to feel like every decision is his own, even when he’s backed into a corner — or in this case, strapped to a chair.

The words send sparks down your spine, nevertheless. 

“I like it when you listen.”

A smile spreads slowly across your face, and you lean closer to him, making sure to drag your hips torturously along his crotch before letting the tips of your noses bump briefly. The action draws a near-silent grunt from the man underneath you, and your lips trail lightly along his as he squirms. After tracing a full circle around his mouth with your own, you deprive him of a kiss as he cranes his neck upwards to reach you. Roguishly, your smile spreads slowly into a smirk. “And I like it when you beg.” The sharp intake of breath that comes from him fills you with much more triumph than you let on. “Am I gonna get that, tonight?”

Cody swallows audibly as his honey-glazed gaze flits back and forth between your eyes. He begins to nod, the last shreds of his resistance falling away to the quickly growing lust warming his skin, but you shake your head in disapproval. “I need to know, Cody.” Your arms stretch behind him to tap the cuffs around his wrists, and you feel his fingers extend to grab for you. They fail, for the most part, but he settles on running his thumb along the back of your hand as he stares at you earnestly. “Is this okay?”

It’s a long time before he speaks, but with difficulty, he manages an affirmation. “Yes,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “I want it.”

You almost shriek with glee.

Instead, you opt for a restrained grin as you smooth your palms across the width of his shoulders, his admission igniting a heat in your blood that pulses with every second you caress his broad chest. Like a flame creeping towards gasoline, it grows steadily at the prospect of testing the composure of the most patient soldier you’ve had the pleasure of laying eyes — and lips — on.

Because Cody doesn’t come to you for patience. He comes to you for reprieve.

The racy desire rises faster within you the lower your fingertips dance along his body, catching on the thin fabric of his bodysleeve, and the clothing is thin enough that you can feel his abdomen tighten and constrict as you spread your hands over the plane of muscle. Almost cruelly, you sweep your palms back up, thumbing lightly over his nipples before stopping at his arms, squeezing lightly around his biceps, and Cody twitches in response. It’s then that you decide, with little remorse, that yes, you’re going to play with him today.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, lips gentle along the shell of his ear as you press your body to his. “I didn’t have time to snatch the stun remote.” You nip playfully at his lobe. “Unless you want me to, next time.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond before you descend to his bared neck, skimming your mouth along his pulse point and lightly sucking. You graze his skin occasionally with your teeth, mild lovebites blossoming blue and purple along the dark brown, and Cody releases his first groan of the night as you purse your lips against the base of his throat. Too late, he realizes you’re teasing, and he yanks at his binds as you pull the neckline of his blacks far down enough to mark the juncture of his neck and shoulder, leaving a line of hickeys you know no one else will see but you.

Your fingers spider along his torso, daintily prodding and pinching, and each touch draws a huff or a jump from an increasingly frustrated Cody as they drift across scars and muscle alike. His abs contract deliciously when you ghost below his waistline, but before he can buck his hips for more, your hands are already on his collarbone, barely scratching as you mouth at the spot behind his ear.

When you move along the sharp line of his jaw, pointedly avoiding his puffed out lips, he breaks slightly, voice croaking out a half-baked request. “Please,” he rasps, sounding more desperate than you’ve heard him before, “let me kiss you.”

You don’t cease in your mission to drive him to near-insanity, stringing the beads of sweat that have started to collect on his forehead together with your tongue. Mirth bubbles within you at his plea, though, and you’re surprised at how patronizing your voice comes out in return. “You mean let me kiss you,” you chastise him, mindlessly noting how lovely he looks when he’s at your mercy. He shudders at your admonishment, and you lick your lips at his reaction.

“Yeah. Kiss me.” He says simply. “Please,” he repeats, when you tilt your head loftily.

As you linger above him, taking his bottom lip under your thumb, he slips his tongue hesitantly along the pad of your finger, eyes imploring and utterly helpless. The sight is intoxicating, and you take a mental picture while waiting for your brain to catch up with your body as he mutters a third please.

Your cheeks expand with delight as an answer occurs to you, his favorite phrase coming flawlessly to mind, and you beam at his waiting form as he fidgets impatiently under you. You lower your mouth to his, not quite a kiss — more a dusting of a touch as he strains to press closer. Pushing down with both hands, you breathe against his lips. “Be good for me, won’t you?”

He whimpers.

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (Part IV)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, a little dirty (not quite smut, but a bit steamy). 

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

2359 words

You tensed, anticipating the conclusion of the story and suddenly afraid of how Dean would react to what you were about to say. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“And when Greg opened the closet door and pulled back the blanket, I emptied the clip into his chest.”

It was deafening in the bedroom as you let the words you had never spoken out loud ring out and coat the empty spaces around you, never to be forgotten again. Dean hadn’t spoken, and you suddenly felt exhausted, reliving the darkest moment of your life. He still held you tight in his arms, but he was no longer comforting you, merely laying still as you pressed against his chest breathing him in. You couldn’t decide if you were worried for his reaction, or if you were relishing in the silence and warmth of his hold, but either way you were becoming anxious the longer he didn’t speak. 

Dean cleared his throat lightly, and you chanced glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking directly at you, but seemed to be lost in a memory for the moment. You curled back into his chest, and he tightened his hold, before you heard his voice, gruff from not being used. 

“When I was maybe, I don’t know, thirteen, fourteen, I killed my first vampire. She was young and dad decided I was old enough to go head to head with her because we were roughly the same size.” He huffed out a brief laugh. “Looking back it seems really messed up, but I was itching to get more into the hunt and this became the only way for me to prove it to my father.” He stopped, and it was your turn to try to comfort him, reaching up to run your fingers across his shoulders and you felt him relax a bit, letting out a deep breath he must have been holding. 

“Anyway, I took out the vamp no problem, and remember dad clapping me on the back, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the vamp’s head. She hadn’t even barred fangs, and honestly looked just like a normal teenage girl, but one that I had just beheaded.” You continued lightly massaging his shoulders as you took comfort in the rumble of his voice against your cheek. “The image haunted me for weeks and after I woke dad up one night screaming in my sleep he sat down with me and instead of giving me the ‘she’s a monster, get over it’ talk he said something that I think about often.” Dean seemed to be completely lost in thought, and though you weren’t sure why he was telling you this, you listened intently, like he had just done for you. 

“He told me, ‘Dean, she was doing bad things. Yes, she was young, but sometimes people can’t come back from tasting a little bit of the darkness.’” 

You stopped moving your hands and he pulled you softly away from his chest and you looked into bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. 

“Y/N.” He began, his tone growing serious. You shrunk back a little against his hold, afraid of what he was about to say. “Hey,” he softened, pulling you closer again so he could rub his hands up and down your arms. “Look at me.” You glanced back into his eyes as he continued speaking. “Some people can’t come back from the darkness.” 

Dean made everything seem so easy, and for a second you believed him. Perhaps you really could stop drowning in the guilt of what you did. But you shook your head at him with finality breaking your eye contact. You could never be forgiven for taking another human’s life. And you had too many secrets to ever live life like a normal person. Way too many skeletons in the closet. In that moment you felt profound guilt and sadness at the direction of your life. Sure, you were now in the arms of the man you had been in love with since before you even knew what love was, but he didn’t know anything about your life now. 

Dean saw the way you were reacting to his words. The way your mind was taking you from hope to guilt to sadness to absolute dread. He knew you thought you could hide from him, but he spent the better part of his childhood learning how to read the nerdy short girl who sometimes hung out with him at Bobby’s. And he could still read you like a book. 

“Hey, stop avoiding me, and look at me.” He said it with the tone that didn’t leave room for argument and you glanced up slowly. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself. That’s what your dad, my dad, and Bobby always taught us. Remember, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’“ He smiled at you softly and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the memory pull at you. 

When you found yourself alone with Dean on endless nights when you were younger, waiting for your dad’s to return, you used to come up with outrageous situations that you both could maybe find yourselves in and the other would respond simply with ‘shoot first. Ask questions later.’ It was stupid and bordering on morbid, but it always made you laugh, and Dean would stare at you until your fits of giggles stopped. In those moments, you always felt like maybe Dean felt for you just as much as you felt for him. But you were just his friend who he would hang out with at Bobby’s. Not girlfriend material. And you were taken from the boys young anyway, shattering any hope of what could have been. And Greg successfully shattered any hope of you being comfortable with another human being. 

Dean saw it happening again. The way you went from joy to guilt to sadness to dread. It broke his heart to not know what was happening in your head. Whatever you were telling yourself to give you such a hopeless look. He wanted more than anything to take away your pain, but he had no idea where to even start. 

You coughed lightly, pulling away from his arms. “Uh, can we just go to bed, Dean? I’m tired and,” you stopped glancing at his bedside clock, “it’s nearly 4:00am.” He nodded softly, and you turned away in the opposite direction, pulling the comforter up to your chin, though you weren’t even remotely tired. You were too stuck in your own head, imagining what could have been if you hadn’t been taken away all those years ago. You were never one for coulda woulda shoulda, but laying this close to Dean had you feeling all kinds of ways and it was hard not to want so much of what you couldn’t have. You had been laying silent for a few moments, when you felt Dean shift slightly. 

“Hey,” he whispered, gauging if you were asleep. You turned your head back toward him, glancing into his eyes. “Uh,” he looked awkward and it made you smile. “Would it be okay, if I held you, Y/N? Just for tonight.” You were a bit shocked by his question, being that you had just been thinking about him, but you nodded, realizing quickly how much you wanted him close again. You turned back to your side away from him, and felt one arm snake under your head laying against the pillow, and the other crawl across your waist pulling you flush against him. He sighed contentedly, and you allowed yourself to breath normally, even though your body was trembling slightly and your breathing was a little erratic. 

Being this close to him, it was impossible to hide the way your body was reacting, and you felt him pull away from you a bit, but you grabbed his arm and placed it on your hip again. This is what you wanted. It’s Dean. He would never hurt you. You told yourself over and over to calm you racing heart. Besides, Greg never cuddled with you. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, baby?” Dean whispered, his breath tickling the hair by your ear, making your body tense up again. But you nodded placing your hand on his on your hip, and moving it further down your stomach. Dean let you guide his hand and when it landed in a comfortable place, you proceeded to run your fingers up and down his arm. A memory of Dean flashed across your eyes as you did this. 

You were playing some racing game that you were horrible at and he knew it, so of course he wanted to place a bet. You were no punk, so you agreed, sitting up a bit straighter as the cars raced around the tracks for their practice run before you pressed the start button. 

“If I win,” you started, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “I get to ride in the front seat of the Impala the next time John takes us into town!” You didn’t really care about riding up front, but you knew it drove Dean insane to be in the back, and if you were up front you could play Dixie Chicks and Dean would have to shut up about it. 

He sighed dramatically, but agreed. “Okay, then if I win...” He trailed off trying to look deep in thought, but you knew him better than that. He was embarrassed, and you got serious thinking ‘what could he possibly be embarrassed to ask for?’

“If I win, I want you to do that arm scratching thing you do when you’re nervous, to distract yourself... I love that.” You stared at him stupidly in response, but nodded anyway. You always thought he thought that was annoying when you’d be watching a horror movie and you’d grab his arm and move your fingers up and down the smooth skin as a distraction. You hated the feeling yourself, but he never stopped you, so you figured he was just humoring you. 

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal and nodded back, looking toward the game, knowing he was going to win, and smiling to himself. 

You kept moving up and down his arm and Dean sighed into your hair. “I love this.” He whispered softly, almost as if he didn’t mean to. You smiled nodding that you knew. Dean leaned his head down to rest on your shoulder and he lightly kissed the open patch of skin on your collar bone, losing himself for a moment. You breathed out a little in surprise, and he felt you tense, moving his head back. “Sorry.” He whispered quickly, but you shook your head in response. 

“I liked it...” You whispered back, moving your hand to entangle your fingers with his on your waist, and he pulled you closer gripping you to him. His head returned and he placed another chaste kiss against your neck making goosebumps appear across your skin. He nuzzled into your neck lightly and you giggled involuntarily, nervous suddenly and he placed another kiss against your collarbone before speaking. 

“It broke my heart to let you leave...” He trailed off, lost in thought as you took in his words. “I begged my dad for months to take you back, but we couldn’t find you. It was like the system ate you up. I’m so sorry, baby. I should have saved you.” You shook your head at his last words, not wanting any of this to be his fault. Besides, after Greg, you didn’t want to be found. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault and that you had disappeared for years after the shooting, but he released your hand suddenly, moving his hand back over your stomach. Your shirt had rode up a bit and you felt the pads of Dean’s fingers glide smoothly across your exposed skin. You had never been touched so gently, and though it brought up feelings you hadn’t felt in years, you knew Dean wasn’t pressuring you into anything, but rather comforting you and letting you know you are wanted. The thought made you choke up, and Dean held you close to him. 

“Lets sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.” You nodded, and snuggled closer, relaxing as Dean’s fingers danced across your skin, and the sound of him humming “Let it Be” lightly into your ear soothed you into a dreamless sleep. 

---------------------------

It was well after noon and you were still fast asleep. Dean had pulled away from you gently around 9:00am and was returning now to check on you. He pulled the door closed, leaving it open a crack so he could hear if you called for him, when Sam came up next to him. 

“Hey,” He whispered. “How is she? How did last night go?” 

Dean put a finger to his lips and motioned for his brother to follow him into the bathroom across the hall. He closed the door and sat down with a huff on the toilet seat, Sam perching on the side of the bathtub. 

It took a few seconds for Dean to decide what he wanted to tell Sam, but his brother was ever patient waiting for Dean to say what he needed to. 

“Some awful stuff happened to her when she was taken into foster care after her dad died, Sammy...” Sam nodded looking up at his brother, remembering how chaotic things were after the social worker barged into Bobby’s house and took you out screaming for Dean along the way. Dean refused to stop looking for you and it was almost a year later when he finally resigned to returning to hunt with his dad and taking care of Sam again. 

Dean slammed his hand down loudly on the sink, and pulled it back quickly, straining to hear if he woke you. He didn’t hear anything so he turned back to Sam confessing what was weighing deep on his soul. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He stated simply.

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?” Dean looked up at him with sorrow in his eyes.

“I love her, Sammy.”

Read part V here.

When We Were Young Tag list: @vicmc624​ 

[funkylittlebard]

Hey, @mayastormborn you know how I said maybe a week ago that I had something for you? TA DA!

Sorry it took me so long, woops

Here is some platonic fluffy nonsense featuring Aro Jaskier and Vesemir. Also Lambert briefly, but this isn't really about him.

CWs: none that I can think of this time.

edit 18/05: Ao3 link

Jaskier sighed contentedly, snuggling in closer. Vesemir was running a hand through his hair so gently, at such a leisurely pace, that he thought he might fall asleep at any moment. A sleepy smile spread across his face- this had been a wonderful idea. They were sat by the fire in the Keep’s library, Vesemir in a worn, comfortable armchair with his legs covered in furs, and Jaskier leant back against him from his place on the rug. It felt soft beneath his fingers where he tugged gently at the strands, the sensation comforting. He could always relax better when he had something to do with his hands. Vesemir ran his hand through Jaskier’s hair, letting it fall through his fingers.

Jaskier shuffled even nearer to Vesemir, smiling widely as the other man hummed as he buried his fingers deeper into Jaskier’s hair. The calloused tips felt incredibly good on his scalp, so good that Jaskier could feel himself practically purring. Vesemir actually did purr when Jaskier did this for him- it was a Witcher thing, apparently, though Jaskier had yet to try it on any of the others.

The fire cracked loudly in front of them, startling Jaskier from his thoughts. Vesemir chuckled at him, legs shaking as the laugh reverberated through him. Jaskier looked up, pouting. He didn’t have to say anything before Vesemir smiled at him and stroked his cheek fondly, before going back to petting his hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and leant back. Over the last few years of visiting the Keep, he had established that it was definitely much better than seeing out winter marking mediocre essays in Oxenfurt. Here, he had a friend who would show him affection openly and had never once mistaken their friendship and its resulting closeness for any kind of romantic arrangement. It was nice to be understood. Especially without any awkward explanations about how he “simply didn’t feel that way”. Poor Valdo, Jaskier thought, it wasn’t his fault I suppose. Just as his eyes were slipping shut, sleep calling to him, there was a heavy knock at the door.

“Oy! I’m coming in,” came a yell from outside. Vesemir tutted and tugged his furs closer to him.

“Don’t know why he bothers knocking when he doesn’t even ask if he can come in. No bloody manners that one,” he muttered as Lambert charged through the door and came to stand in front of them with a tray.

Jaskier blinked his bleary eyes open, not quite able to understand what Lambert was saying. His eyes were drawn to the pair of steaming mugs the younger witcher had on the tray. There was a slight smell of spiced rooibos emanating from them and Jaskier sighed happily, wriggling his arms out from under his blanket. He reached out towards Lambert, waggling his hands at him. He still hadn’t heard a word the man had said but that didn’t matter- Lambert had tea. The witcher frowned down at him and his sentence stuttered to a halt.

“Impatient bastard,” Lambert mumbled, leaning down to pass Jaskier the spiced tea. Jaskier let out a happy little squeak and snuggled back into Vesemir’s legs with his cup. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the warming sensation. He could vaguely register the deep grumbling sound of Vesemir talking to Lambert, but he was blissfully ignorant of what, exactly, they were talking about. He took a sip of the tea and was pleasantly surprised at the combination of spices. Witchers weren’t always too keen on strong flavours, he had noticed, as they bothered their strong senses. He flicked his eyes back open, staring at the fire and its comforting orange hues again. Lambert had settled himself on the window seat with a book, his warm breath fogging up the glass.

Vesemir looked at Lambert for a long moment, and then stood up, making to walk over to the fire, but Jaskier grabbed his ankle.

“Wait, Ves, I have something for you,” Jaskier rummaged around under the chair and Vesemir frowned at him fondly- the space wasn’t that big, so it was impressive that Jaskier had managed to hide anything there at all. Jaskier produced a brown package, tied up tightly with string. He held it out to Vesemir, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. Vesemir tore open the package carefully, smiling at Jaskier as he pulled the object loose from the packaging. It felt soft in his grip, and he ran his thumbs over it for a moment, enjoying the feel of the fabric. It was a dark, forest green colour, made with beautiful tight-knit lines of wool. He looked down at Jaskier, who smiled up at him sheepishly. “I tried to make one for you myself. But uh, it didn’t turn out so well.”

He pulled out another package- equally well- wrapped, but when Vesemir opened it he found a fluffy green hat, lopsided and with several large holes in it. There was a loose line of wool trailing down the left side, and Vesemir felt like his heart was going to burst. He slipped it onto his head, and let out a chuckle when it fell to cover his eyes. Pulling it back just far enough that he could see out again, he looked at Jaskier.

“Thank you, Jaskier, for the two lovely hats.” He paused to pull the too-large knitwear off his head and stopped when he heard a sniffle. “Jaskier, wait no, why are you crying?” The snuffling continued as a few tears started to fall down Jaskier’s face. Jaskier wiped a hand across it and blinked wet eyes up at him.

“I picked out the decent one in Ard Carraigh, the lady told me it was the best for the snows and the cold weather, and- Vesemir what’s that?” The older man was now holding a parcel out to him, which Jaskier took with shaky hands. He tore it open hastily, shreds of paper flying over his shoulders. He pulled out the soft fabric with wide eyes, a look of awe on his tear-stained face. “Did you make this?” Vesemir nodded. “What the fuck? Why were you so nice about my knitting when this is what you can do?” Jaskier scrambled to his feet and threw himself at Vesemir, clinging desperately to his friend’s shoulders. “Let me take mine back and you can pretend you never saw it,” he finished, hiding his head in Vesemir’s neck, and he felt a hand pat his back.

“And why would I want to do that? When one of my dearest friends has made something for me, how could I possibly want to get rid of it?” Jaskier sniffled again, and Vesemir hugged him tighter. They stood there for a long moment holding each other. There was a sudden loud noise, and they startled apart in surprise, glancing around for the cause. The tension was broken when the noise rumbled through the room again and they saw Lambert, now sound asleep by the window, snoring loudly. Vesemir chuckled quietly at the sight of his youngest pup slumped against the glass, and Jaskier had to hold a hand to his mouth to keep the laughter back. “I think that’s our cue to go to bed, bard,” Vesemir said, stepping up to Lambert and lifting him into his arms with ease. They headed out of the library and Jaskier walked up the stairs, wrapped tightly in his new scarf. He never wanted to take it off again.

[solastia]

Sanctuary | 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Your bed & breakfast has a new regular...Jeon Jungkook of BTS

You shuffle into your office, still a little sleepy despite having a shower and having a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. You weren’t sure what the cause of it was, but you’d been entirely too restless to sleep well. Too much excitement, perhaps?

You shrug to yourself and sit into your office chair with a loud yawn, ruffling your still damp hair as you power on your laptop. You still hadn’t received any reservations for this week and you were hoping someone would come by for the weekend at least. You had some honeymooners reserved for next week, but that didn’t help you now. An entire week without guests would put a noticeable deficient in the books.

That’s why when you pulled up your check-in program and saw that you’d been booked for the entire week by a single client, you had to verify that you weren’t still asleep. You pinched yourself and cringed at the pain, staring again at the program.

Sure enough, it was all still there. One client, for seven days straight. They’d booked the biggest room upstairs, the only one up there besides your own. What was incredibly strange is that they changed the offered rate. Normally, you were one of the cheapest places in the area and charged $120 a night. Not bad for one of the more expensive areas in Northern California. This person was offering you a deal of $300 per night, along with fees for meals and a hefty “to be discussed” tip if you were to close reservations for anyone else. They were trying to rent the whole place? So probably some celeb going for anonymity by hiding in an unknown B&B.

You shrugged. It wasn’t that crazy, although most local celebs tended to hang out in Carmel rather than around here. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first one you’d hosted, simply the first one that had been so generous. The other two were well-known names and you’d been expecting a hefty tip from them but they’d been surprisingly tight-fisted. One had even tried to argue your nightly fee down in exchange for using the name of your place on his social media. You’d been happy to decline.

While a little more business would be nice, you didn’t want the place overrun. You wanted it small and cozy. Safe, for yourself as well as your guests. The whole purpose of the place was to have somewhere calm and comfortable to escape to.

This person must be especially desperate if they were booking the entire place to be alone. There wasn’t a mention of them bringing any other guests with them. You exhaled noisily and clicked accept, sending them a little welcome email with all the instructions they’d need. You wondered with a self-amused grin if you should start putting a little footnote mentioning that celebrity scandals or drug-filled parties were not allowed on the premises.

You lean back in your chair when you’re done, taking sips of your now luke-warm coffee as you think over everything that you have to do to get ready. According to the form they filled out, they’d be arriving that evening. You kept the house in shape daily so you didn’t have much to do in the way of chores, but you should make a menu for the week, get the fireplace in the room prepped, and hit up a few of your friends for the local event tickets.

Thor comes up and bumps your thigh, reminding you that you still had to take him out.

“I got you, buddy,” you chuckle, standing up with a groan and going to fetch his leash. “We have a long day ahead of us, and then maybe you’ll have a new friend for a bit, huh? You gotta be on your best behavior.”

Thor barks softly and you pretend he’s answering you instead of demanding you hurry the hell up with your shoes. You decide at the last minute to throw on a hoodie too since the temperature was lowering fast. You hiss as you step outside and hope that Thor manages to get his business done fast. But even the chill wasn’t enough to bring down your mood. Today was going to be a great day. You could just feel it in your bones.

****

You had just finished putting another batch of cookies in the oven when you heard someone arrive and ring the little bell you kept on the front desk.

“Good evening! I’ll be right there, but go ahead and shut the door if you want!” You holler from the kitchen as you wash your hands.

You’d left the door open just in case they came around while you were putting around the place, but now that they were here you could finally turn on the heater.

You dry your hands and pat down your shirt and pants as you walk, hoping you didn’t look too casual. Jeans and a flowy blue button-up blouse with matching flats seemed casual yet comfortable. And you were wearing your pearls just in case they were the stuffy sort that would look down on you for not looking at least a little professional.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m -”

“Hey, Noona,” a cheeky-toned voice answered as you turned the corner and entered the foyer.

Your eyebrows fly up as you see the tall figure standing there. “Jungkook?”

He looks...fucking glorious. Black pants that look like they are painted on tucked into those stomper boots he seems to love. Plain black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a blue flannel shirt over that. Sitting next to him is a large black backpack that is easily half as big as him.

He grins cockily and leans against the desk. “They gave me a couple of weeks off so I’m here on vacation. Please take care of me,” he bows with mock formality.

“You’re the one that booked the whole place, right?” you ask, bringing up your computer application to check him in. He leans in way too close and looks over your shoulder as you work.

“Yup! One of the managers did the form though. Did he do everything I asked? Up the rate and made sure you feed me?”

You snort, “Yes, Jungkook. They are paying me an astronomical amount and I have plenty of food. Although, I only went shopping for one normal person. You’ll probably go through it all it two days, so make me a list.”

He chuckled lowly and you shivered, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Well, I’m not eating every meal here. I’m going to go out sometimes, too. Maybe noona can show me some nice places?”

You struggle to hold back a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A shrill beeping started in the kitchen and Jungkook jumped back, looking around curiously.

“Cookies,” you answered the silent question. You finish typing a couple of things in the program than jump up and rush towards the kitchen, amused to notice Jungkook hot on your heels.

You shove your hand in a glove and pull out the pan, your own stomach rumbling a little from the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. It probably also didn’t help that in your rush to prepare for your guest you might have forgotten your own meals.

You scoop them onto the wire rack, so focused in the work that you forgot about the other person beside you until his thieving hands begin reaching towards one of the scalding hot cookies. You smack it with the spatula.

“Let it cool,” you order unapologetically, forgetting for a moment he was an actual guest. His sheepish grin assured you that there were no hard feelings. And that he would probably do it again.

“Are you hungry for actual food?”

He nods quickly, helping himself to one of the bar stools at your prep counter.

“Yeah. I ate this morning, but then I had to finish this interview before they’d let me go free. And that means an hour in hair and makeup for five minutes of questions,” he rolls his eyes and props his cheek onto his hand as he watches you.

“Ugh,” you grunt sympathetically. You look around for the menu you’d made for the week and hand it to him. “Look this over, will you? Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like.”

He silently reads your list as you prepare him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. And maybe you sneak a couple for yourself as well.

Finally, he nods and tosses it over. “It’s good. Maybe add some Korean food if you know how to make any. I noticed there weren’t any restaurants.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t really known for its diverse cuisine. But if you want fifty seafood places, we have you covered.”

He snorts, “Kinda like home.”

You laugh, remembering how many little food carts littered Busan’s beaches.

You place his snack in front of him and he dives in happily, his eyes wide with happiness. You slide into the seat next to him and study him.

“So, Jeon Jungkook. What are your plans for the week? Are you going to stick around the house most of the time or should I maybe find some places for you to visit? I have lots of friends that I can get tickets from.”

He takes a huge gulp of milk and sighs contentedly before he answers. He shrugs, “Mostly around here. This is my time to actually relax. Definitely going to the beach and taking some photos. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” you hum, propping your chin in your hand. “The main attractions out here are all marine-based, so it’s up to you if you want to see any of it or if it’s all just old news to a Busan boy. But we do have the marine sanctuary nearby, there’s whale watching, and I think the butterfly exhibit is still going on. It really depends on how far you’re willing to travel. Monterey has even more things to do.”

He looks almost shy when he glances up at you. “Is it okay if we just stay here tonight?”

Your filthy disgusting mind conjures up all sorts of things hearing a sentence like that coming from Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, but you gulp and hope your voice sounds normal.

“Yup. Of course. It’s your vacation. Most guests don’t even interact this much with me. They just check-in and have meals sent to their room.”

“It’s okay. I like having noona around,” he grins, his eyes crinkling mischievously. Brat.

He looks around suddenly. “Hey, where’s Thor?”

“I usually keep him in my room until I figure out how pet-friendly the guest actually is.”

“You can let him run around, I’m fine,” he grins with excitement and follows behind when you get up and head towards the stairs.

Once you reach the top you can already hear Thor sniffing on the other side. You fling open your bedroom door and let him practically fly towards Jungkook. The man tries to sneak a peek inside before you slam the door shut, not ready to let the international celebrity see your mess.

Instead, you nod towards the room across the hall and gesture with your arm.

“This one is yours.”

He grins softly and walks around peeking at everything, patting the covers of the bed until Thor jumps up. He sits next to him and nods.

“It’s so nice. You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you grin lopsidedly as you take a quick look around. “I think I did okay too. I’m no interior designer, but I was hoping for homey.”

“It’s relaxing,” he agrees with a nod. “I couldn’t even do this with my own place. I just threw some blankets on the floor and set up my PC. I don’t even think I have proper dishes. I had to eat cereal out of the plastic bag inside,” he giggles.

You shake your head, unsurprised really.

“This TV is pretty big too,” he grunts as he climbs towards the headboard of the bed, then crosses his ankles with a sigh, setting against the plush pillow behind him and playing with the remote. “Do you get all the channels?”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing there awkwardly now as he gets comfortable. You should probably go make dinner now or something, right?

“Oh nice,” he suddenly exclaims exactly, tossing the remote away. “Deadpool is on. Come watch, noona,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

His eyes are huge and there’s not a single hint on his face that this is a joke. He looks innocent and earnest. Just where was this “shy” Jungkook you’d always heard about?

You shuffle towards the bed and slowly lower yourself onto it, trying your best to avoid actual contact with him. He didn’t seem to approve because he actually scooted closer until his rock hard thigh was pressed right up against yours.

“Get comfortable, noona. I don’t have rabies,” he chuckled, tugging you down a little more until you were sharing a pillow.

Fuck. How was it possible for a man to smell so good, you moaned in your head. Thor - the traitorous bastard - was cuddled in a circle right in between Jungkook’s legs. He looked well on his way to taking a nap.

You focus on the tv, not really watching the movie, and trying instead not to hyperventilate. He was so close and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You felt like a nervous teenager.

It was probably midway through the movie when you first heard it. A tiny little wheeze. Then, the man next to you felt like he was slipping. You turn and grin when you notice that Jungkook is pretty much out for the count. His head has slipped right onto your shoulder and his mouth is wide open as he sleeps, his nose making a cute little rattle instead of outright snores.

You huff and look around, yawning as the feeling of laying in bed finally begins to catch up with you as well. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it was understandable. But Jungkook probably didn’t get much sleep on a regular basis, so you’d hate to disturb him now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit. Just until it was time to make dinner.

You give in to the lazy feel of the room and shut your eyes, snuggling into the pillow a little more. You barely noticed when a strong arm flipped you over gently and pulled you closer.

[luminnara]

God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x OC Chapter 7 18+ ONLY

HI SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW!

Instead of a gif this time, I’ve got some art of Vera to share! By AmaAmaranth on twitter!

She looks so badass and it makes me so happy lol

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh​

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Warnings for vampires doing their thing and nsfw

If Paul was a tornado, then Marko was a cyclone. He was just as insatiable--maybe even more, actually--and just as determined to taste every inch of Vera. He made a last minute decision to go to the beach instead of back to the cave, taking her to a nice secluded stretch of sand where they could enjoy the rest of their night without disruptions. 

“Oh, Marko,” she purred, tangling her fingers in his silky hair and giving it a tug. 

She pulled his face up from between her thighs and saw him licking his lips. He had been eating her out for several minutes and showed no desire to stop, his eyes yellow and his fangs already sharp and exposed. His mouth was sinfully talented, his tongue having already pulled a big, leg-shaking orgasm out of her. 

“Let me return the favor.”

Marko grinned, sitting back so that she could get up. Vera crawled across the sand towards him, unbuckling his chaps first and then his jeans. He bit his lip as he watched her, his cock already painfully hard, and the moment he felt her lips around it, he thought he might just die of pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby…” he moaned, grabbing a handful of her hair and guiding her head up and down. 

He was rougher than she imagined he might be...but then again, she should have known to be wary of his angelic face. With his hand in her hair, he rolled his hips into her mouth, shoving his cock down her throat and reveling at the sight of her as she looked up at him. He could feel blood dripping down his chin as he bit at his lip, practically gnawing on it as he tried not to lunge at her. She was so gorgeous, the way she stayed on her knees and took his entire cock into her throat, and fuck, he could smell her blood, so much blood...he wanted it, he wanted a taste, just one, fuck, he was going to lose it--

Vera could tell he was struggling to stay in control. She grinned around him, amused even as he forced her head down his length. She could tell that Marko wanted to pounce on her and sink his teeth into her flesh, but rather than just roll over and let him, she preferred to wait and see how long he could go before he totally lost it. So far, he was unraveling quickly, and it didn’t seem like she would have to do much more waiting. 

“Fuck!” He snarled, yanking her head up before she could make him cum.

His fangs were bared, his eyes wild, blood dripping down his chin. Without thinking, Vera crawled over him, their lips meeting in a kiss that left her hungry for more. The moment she tasted Marko’s blood, she could feel a rush of energy coursing through her body, and all she wanted to do was drown in the sweet, ruby liquid. It was morbid, but it was the truth; Vera was enthralled by the taste, obsessed with it, and, like many other vampires, she would have bathed in it if she could get enough of it into a tub all at once.

She sucked at the wound on his lip as she sank down onto his cock, moaning into his mouth as she felt him stretching her. Marko bucked his hips, wrapping his arms around her as he thrusted up into her, and they both soon found themselves lost in a whirlwind of pleasure, their heads swimming, their grunts and moans and sighs drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. He dug his nails into her hips, leaving little crescent-shaped marks behind...until he truly lost himself and his fingers suddenly ended in claws, and he was doing his best to shred her flesh. 

The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and while Vera had had her fill of Marko’s, he still had yet to taste hers. He was impatient, and while Paul was more of a big rough puppy dog, Marko was purely dangerous, hungry and determined to get what he wanted. He sank his teeth into her throat, drinking greedily, completely taken by the rush of energy he received from her. Her blood was absolutely delicious, like nothing else he had ever tasted, and as he drank, he could feel her. He could feel all of her. Her hands on his skin, her mind against his own…she was there in her entirety, stalwart, strong, unmoved by the waves no matter how hard they crashed. Vera was like his rock, his weight, his anchor, keeping him in place. She was pain and she was pleasure. She was everything.

Mate. Pack.

Mate.

Mate mate mate mate mate--

His head was buzzing with an instinctual knowledge of what she was to him now, and just by sharing blood, he suddenly felt closer to her than anyone else in the world, even the other boys, if that was possible. He could feel all of their minds nudging his, eagerly checking in to see how things were going. Paul was elated, his mental voice loud and excited like it always was. David was pleased, though he was much calmer than Paul was, and Dwayne…

Dwayne was hungry. 

Marko could feel how impatient he was getting, and it surprised him. Dwayne was almost always in control of his emotions, aside from when a human managed to piss him off enough to deserve being torn in half. Now, he felt irritated and antsy, and Marko was glad that it would only be another night before his packmate had the chance to spend some alone time with Vera. 

That was another weird thing...he felt possessive of her, but not with them. He was never good at sharing, and he got in plenty of fights with Paul over weed and prey, but when it came to her...he was okay with handing her over to one of them. Because he trusted them, because they were all meant for her, too. But if anyone other than the boys tried to go after her...oh, he would rip their hands off. 

They stayed out there on the beach until the very first rays of sunlight started peeking up over the horizon. Vera was exhausted, laying at his side contentedly and dozing on and off. Marko could tell that the others were getting annoyed, David especially, and by the time the two returned to the cave, the boys were all over her.

Because they missed her that much.

“You took too long,” David growled, looking her over to make sure she was alright. His voice was stern, but not entirely angry, and when he saw how she looked, he backed off slightly. He couldn’t deny that she seemed happy, and when she was happy, he was happy. 

Vera held onto Marko’s arm, leaning against him slightly and looking up at him with those big, adoring eyes. He felt like he was melting whenever she did that, like his knees would give out at any moment. He had just spent the better part of a night with his cock buried inside of her, and yet she still managed to make him feel shy and vulnerable, and if he could, he would have blushed when she kissed his cheek and took David’s hand to go to bed. 

How did she manage that? How could she make him melt like candle wax, or ice cream on a hot summer night? She made him feel warm inside, in a way he hadn’t felt since he was still human. 

And that was a damn special thing for her to be able to do.

“So,” Paul slung his arm around Marko’s shoulders. “She’s good, huh?”

“Yeah,” the smaller vampire sighed. “Too good.”

-0-

Vera actually had a pleasant dream for once. 

Instead of stressful nightmares filled with pain and torture, she was blessed with a peaceful slumber, the kind that felt warm and inviting. For once, she didn’t want to wake up. For once, she felt completely safe and happy. Nothing could harm her. Nobody could get to her. 

Her night with Marko had left her feeling light and relaxed, and she went to bed safely cuddled up with David. He kept a tight hold on her, not wanting to let her shift away towards any of the others, but it seemed like his efforts were in vain when she found herself waking up in between Paul and Marko. They were both snoring softly and both seemingly determined to sleep in for as long as possible that evening, grunting when she tried to wriggle out of their grip. 

She ended up accidentally side stepping right into the one vampire she had yet to interact with very much:

Dwayne.

He was already awake, and when her back hit his chest, she suddenly heard a quiet, rumbly purring sound emanating from him. 

She turned to face him, slowly, cautiously. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dwayne—she knew that he wouldn’t do anything unpredictable, and even if he did try to hurt her for some reason, she had three mates who would go to war if she asked them to. Dwayne was just big, and strong, and silent, and unlike the others, he hadn’t been making constant grabs at her. Compared to the way Paul and Marko fought for her attention, it just felt weird that Dwayne hadn’t even tried.

But now here he was, slowly, calmly moving to brush his nose over her head, taking in her scent as she inched closer. This would be Vera’s night with him, her chance to see if she really was the queen of their little pack, and assuming that all went well with Dwayne, she would probably be finally meeting Max afterwards. She would finally be catching a glimpse of the vampire who sired these four vicious, unruly boys. 

She would finally be part of the family.

“Good evening,” Dwayne said, chest rumbling. 

She let out a little involuntary sigh at the sound of his voice. It was deep and crunchy, no doubt due to the fact that he had just woken up, and she couldn’t deny that it had an effect on her. Even though she was the tiniest bit shy now that she was pressed up against him, Vera couldn’t help but lean into him, nuzzling up against his neck. He smelled wonderful and warm, his scent calming, just like the rest of him. 

“Sleep well?” He asked, his voice a deep rumble. 

“I did,” Vera sighed. 

“Good.” he brushed his nose through her hair as it hung in his face, inhaling her scent. “What would you like to do tonight?”

“I still haven’t gotten to check out a lot of the rides on the boardwalk,” Vera mused, leaning her cheek against his bare chest. 

“I’ll take you.”

“And I could go for a snack.”

“I’ll hunt for you.”

“A human snack.”

He gave her a confused look. “What else would we eat..?”

“Food? Human food?” She grinned. “C’mon, don’t you guys ever get pizza? Smear a little blood on it and it’s just divine.”

He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. 

“The hell’re you two blabberin’ about?” Paul asked, still half asleep.

“Did someone say pizza?” Marko yawned. 

“See? I knew someone here liked it.” Vera laughed, twisting her head to look at them. 

“You haven’t had fresh pizza in years.” David spoke up, eyes still closed. 

“Define fresh,” Marko said. 

“We’re pizza enthusiasts.” Paul said. 

“These sewer rats pick it outta the garbage when they’re bored.” David drawled. 

“And it’s still good,” Paul said defensively. 

Vera wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t you ever just...buy it?”

“Because David says we don’t need it,” Paul said, jabbing the platinum blond.

“Because you don’t.” David growled.

“Yeah but it’s good,” Vera whined. 

He was no match for those big, pleading eyes, and he immediately relented. “....fine. But we hunt first.”

A short while later, Laddie was off with Star, and Vera was digging into the jugular of a guy who had dared to look at her funny. The sand was red with blood, the waves washing some of it away, and as the others tossed the bodies of their victims into a nearby bonfire, Vera sat down next to David.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asked, lighting a cigarette. 

“I think so,” she said, mumbling a bit. 

David stuck his cigarette between his lips and took a drag, tugging her up against his side. “Sire bothering you tonight?”

“No.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Not yet. But, uh, speaking of sires…”

“Yes?”

“What’s Max like?”

David wrinkled his nose slightly. “You worried about him?”

“I might be.”

He sighed. “He’s...fine.”

“Just fine?” Vera asked nervously. “Is that good or bad?”

“What am I supposed to say? He’s my sire. He’s like an annoying father.”

“Were you his first one?” 

“Far as I know.” He shrugged. “If there were others, they died a long time before I came around.”

“Where are you from?”

“You’ve got a lotta questions tonight.”

“So? I’m allowed to be curious about the guy I’m spending eternity with, aren’t I?”

“Sounds less like curiosity and more like you’re terrified of Max. Are you so nervous that you’re trying to delay meeting him?”

“No!” She snapped.

“You are.” Dwayne appeared before her, a small smile on his face. He looked amused. 

It made her scowl.

“I don’t know why you guys think that. I’m not scared, I’m just...cautious.” Vera huffed. 

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go get you that pizza.” Dwayne said nonchalantly. 

“Pizza!” Paul shouted, tripping over himself as he and Marko raced towards the others. 

They skidded to a stop, falling in a tangle of limbs right in front of Vera. Their antics had her smiling, and all four vampires noticed, sharing smug glances with each other. They all wanted to see her happy, and they all noticed whenever she seemed stressed or down. Even though it had only been a few days since they met her, their bonds were already so strong and they already felt so close to her that they couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset.

“Then let’s go,” she said, allowing Dwayne to take her hand and pull her to her feet. 

When he swung her onto his back, she squealed in surprise, immediately locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He only laughed, trudging through the sand with the others as if he didn’t even notice her weight on him. And maybe he didn’t—after all, he was a big, strong vampire. He could carry a horse on his shoulders without struggling, and he knew because he had done it several times, back before cars were around. Vera felt like nothing in comparison. 

“Wait, wait,” Paul stopped walking, patting his jacket down as he searched for something. “Where the fuck—Marko, you got my weed?”

“No, but I got mine.” Marko pulled a squished-looking joint out of his pocket. 

“Angel of my life,” Paul gave a dramatic, relieved sigh and snatched it out of his hand. “Can’t have pizza without weed.”

“Definitely makes it more palatable,” David grumbled as he led them up to the boardwalk.

“You don’t like it?” Vera asked. 

“David doesn’t like any human food,” Marko said. 

“Why? Does it give you indigestion?”

Paul let out a loud laugh as he pulled a lighter out. “Probably.”

“No!” David snapped at him. “It just tastes like shit.” 

“That’s because you haven’t tried it my way,” Vera rolled her eyes. 

“And what exactly is your way, sweetheart?” David asked. 

“You just gotta add the right toppings,” She said as Paul lit the joint and handed it to her. 

She puffed on it, turning her head to exhale her smoke away from Dwayne’s face. A few nearby boardwalk-goers wrinkled their noses at her, looking thoroughly disgusted by the gang as they strode past. The boys only laughed at their expressions, Marko leering at them as he took the joint from Vera.

It was passed around as they walked, Dwayne letting go of one of her legs to take a hit when it was his turn. He was carrying her with such ease, as if she weighed absolutely nothing, and she knew that to him, that was pretty much true. If she tried, and if she wanted to, she could probably carry him just as easily. 

But she didn’t want to, because she would much rather be carried than do the carrying. 

“Hey!” A portly security guard stepped out in front of them. 

Paul quickly stashed the joint in his jacket, as if the guard wouldn’t be able to smell the hazy cloud of weed lingering around the group. 

“Haven’t we already spoken about this?” The security guard asked roughly. 

“Well, officer, I’m afraid I don’t recall,” David said, lip pulled up in a small sneer. 

The human narrowed his eyes at all of them. As far as he was concerned, they were just a gang of ne’er-do-wells, a bunch of kids who were never up to any good. He had been a security guard on the Santa Carla boardwalk for a number of years, and while it was a chaotic place full of transients who came and went, he could remember his job being far easier back before these boys showed up. It had been a few years--or was it longer? He couldn’t remember anymore, dammit-- since they first appeared, and he always ended up with a headache whenever they were around. They were just troublemakers, through and through, always getting in fights with other gangs, riding those loud bikes of theirs up and down the beach, breaking just about every rule they possibly could just for the fun of it. 

He supposed they weren’t completely at fault for the way they turned out. In a place like Santa Carla, where there was so much illicit activity going on, kids like them usually didn’t come from happy homes. He didn’t know where they came from, and he didn’t really care, but he did wish that whatever had happened to make them this way hadn’t so that he wouldn’t have to deal with The Lost Boys. 

The guard didn’t like interacting with them. They were rude, especially the leader. He always acted like he was better than everyone else, and he was always quick to get irritated whenever he was told to stop doing something. It seemed like tonight wasn’t any different, and after a few days off, Vernon was back to trying to keep the peace between these boys and the rest of the boardwalk. 

“No smoking on the boardwalk,” he said gruffly, glaring at the four of them. 

“Who’s smoking?” David asked, looking at the others in pretend shock. “Paul, are you smoking? On Vernon’s watch?”

“Me? Nah, no way!” Paul coughed, letting out a puff of smoke he had been holding in for significantly longer than any human should have been able to. He immediately socked Marko in the arm. “You’re not supposed to smoke on Vernon’s boardwalk, Marko!”

“Ow, hey!” Marko rubbed his arm, but before he could retaliate, Paul was already running. The two tore off in the direction they had all originally been heading, narrowly missing bystanders in their hurry to get away and smoke some more.

Vernon looked absolutely exhausted. 

Dwayne was silent, as always, staring him down with those dark eyes. It was then that Vernon finally noticed the girl clinging to the man’s back, and he was immediately concerned. ‘

“Are these boys bothering you, miss?” he asked, hand hovering near the baton he wore on his belt. 

David noticed the slight movement and couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Bothering her? Course not. She’s with us.”

“Wasn’t asking you,” the guard snapped. 

For a second, Vera thought David was going to kill him then and there. Her mate’s eyes narrowed menacingly, his lip raised in a sneer that she was sure was about to turn into a snarl. He was pissed, and she didn’t need to feel his thoughts to tell. 

He managed to rein himself back in, though, determined to stay in control. Besides, it would be downright embarrassing to be out there acting like a newly-turned vampire, and he wouldn’t be able to stand the ridicule from Paul and Marko. 

So he did his best to behave.

When she saw that David wasn’t going to totally lose it, Vera smiled at the security guard. “No trouble here, officer.”

He didn’t look like he believed her. “You sure? Haven’t seen you around here, so you might not know...but you’d be doing yourself a favor and keeping yourself safer if you stayed away from these four.”

David and Dwayne both chuckled. 

“They seem perfectly harmless to me,” Vera said, rubbing her cheek against Dwayne’s affectionately. 

It made him so happy that he started purring for a moment before he remembered that there was a human standing in front of him and he toned it down again. 

“So thanks for your concern, really,” Vera continued, “but I’m right where I wanna be.”

[likethesword]

Hi!! I know you like sanders sides and I don’t know much about it but your fav ship and fluff of that maybe?

I'm gonna combine this with this other prompt from @thejelliphish

Read to me?

Pairings: prinxiety

TWs: food

It was a chilly and cloudless night when Virgil found Roman sitting out on the front porch. He was staring up at the sky, studying the constellations. Roman had always admired the stars, not for the scientific reason that Logan did, but for the stories of ancient heroes and monsters that were told in the constellations.

Virgil walked over to stand in front of where he was sitting on the porch swing, pulling the comforter from their bed around his shoulders and balancing two mugs on top of an old leather book. He nudged Roman’s shin with his toe, gently getting his attention.

Roman jumped a bit, a little startled, but quickly relaxed when he met Virgil’s eyes. “Hey, you,” he whispered fondly. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but then I got cold without you,” Virgil mumbled. “I made hot chocolate,” he said, offering a mug to Roman, who took it with both hands. Virgil gathered his blanket and sat on Roman’s lap, causing the swing to sway gently. He leaned back into Roman’s shoulder, looking up at the stars.

Roman pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head and burrowed his cold nose into Virgil’s dyed hair, closing his eyes and smiling softly. He knew in his heart that this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He opened his eyes when he heard Virgil set his mug down on the seat next to him and open the book on his lap. Roman took a sip of his hot chocolate and studied Virgil’s face as he started to read from the book.

Virgil’s face tightened in concentration when he tried to read, his brows furrowing and squinting his eyes. Roman watched as he mouthed the words as he read them, trying to comprehend them. Virgil didn’t like to admit that his dyslexia bothered him, but Roman knew he struggled.

Virgil sighed when he had reread the first paragraph three times. He turned to look at Roman with pleading eyes. Roman gave a little chuckle and raised his eyebrows. “What’s the matter, Stormcloud?” He asked innocently.

“Will you read to me?” Virgil asked softly, like he was expecting Roman to laugh in his face. Roman almost melted into a puddle on the spot.

“Of course I will, love,” He said, gently taking the book from Virgil’s cold hands. “Which story?” Virgil pointed to one in the table of contents, and Roman flipped to the page.

Virgil leaned back against Roman’s shoulder again and closed his eyes, cuddling further into his arms. He smiled softly at the rumble of Roman’s voice in his chest as he read aloud.

“Once upon a time... in a great castle, a Prince's daughter grew up happy and contented, in spite of a jealous stepmother. She was very pretty, with blue eyes and long black hair. Her skin was delicate and fair, and so she was called Snow White. Everyone was quite sure she would become very beautiful. Though her stepmother was a wicked woman, she too was very beautiful, and the magic mirror told her this every day, whenever she asked it.” Roman recited from the worn and yellowing pages of the book.

Virgil could feel Roman’s deep voice vibrating through his bones, filling him with a warm and fuzzy feeling, like his voice was smoothing every crease in his brow and laying all his thoughts to rest. He sighed contentedly and settled into Roman’s story.

Roman was just getting to the “good part” when he heard a quiet snore. He looked down to find Virgil fast asleep, face turned into Roman’s shoulder like a toddler. He smiled fondly at the sight, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He closed the book and set it and their hot chocolate mugs on the ground, then stretched his legs out on the swing, laying down on it and allowing Virgil to use him as a pillow. This would definitely hurt his back in the morning, but he really didn’t care.

Virgil stirred, and for a moment Roman feared that he had woken him up, but he quickly settled when he was able to find Roman’s hand and bring it to his chest. Roman very nearly combusted on the spot at how cute it was.

He looked once more to the stars, taking in the sight before he closed his eyes. Right before he was about to close them, he spotted a shooting star. He knew what to wish for immediately. “Let us stay happy and together, for as long as possible,” he whispered to the night sky, then closed his eyes. He really hoped his wish would come true, because there was no one else he would rather spend his life and his body heat with.

(Thanks for requesting this you two, it really helped)

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 23

M wyvern X F reader, 2949 words.

It was several hours before Davrakoss returned to you. He looked worn, hair mussed and he was yawning a little. “Did it go well?” you asked.

“Well enough.” He sat down next to you and yawned again. “We should probably return to the kingdom tomorrow. It will be a little while before I’ll be able to leave, but I’m going to need to start preparing regardless.”

“I’ll help you,” you said. “If there’s anything you need me to do, I’ll do it for you.”

Davrakoss smiled, eyes glittering softly. “Of course. But you won’t need to do anything for a while. Just continue advising me.” He wound a few strands of hair around his finger. “I’ll still be an ambassador once my sibling becomes the proper heir, so I’ll be able to stay at the castle with you. The world won’t change too much. I just won’t be king.” You started to speak, but he held up a hand. “And yes, I’m still all right with that.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” you said. Davrakoss lowered a hand, looking at you curiously.

“Then what?”

“How are you planning on telling people you’re stepping down?”

He considered. “The egg will be here within a month or so. Once that occurs, my parents will officially change the heir status. They’ll likely make up some story about the new child having a sign of some sort that told them to change it. That story sounds better than their elder child abdicating because he fell in love.”

“I think people would think it’s sweet,” you said. “I’ve heard stories with the same idea before.”

“Unfortunately, being sweet doesn’t work well in politics. It’s better that my parents present like they made the decision to change heirs rather than presenting it like I’m the one being uncooperative. It makes them look a little weak.”

You were familiar enough with politics to see the wisdom of that decision. Davrakoss yawned again and stood. “We should go to bed early so we can rise early and fly back tomorrow.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed. You and Davrakoss changed into your sleep clothes and settled down to sleep together. He nestled close to you, tail secured around your waist.

“Goodnight,” he said. His lips pressed to the top of your head, then to your temple. He seemed to relish your closeness in a way that made your chest tighten with joy. You fell asleep locked in his arms.

When you woke in the morning, Davrakoss was still drowsing, arms settled around you. He stirred a little, blinking as you awoke. “Morning,” he said, smothering a yawn. “Are you ready to head back home?”

It was oddly comforting to hear him refer to the castle as home. The two of you ate breakfast together, then packed up your items and began to head out.

His parents were waiting for you at the entrance of the cave. Davrakoss transformed and they touched their heads together, weaving their necks in a complicated pattern. After a few moments of contact, his mother lowered his head and looked steadily at you.

“I am glad you have given my son something to truly love,” she said. “You give him a great deal of strength.”

“Thank you,” you said, trying not to let your voice tremble with fear. She nodded and lifted her head back to Davrakoss.

“I am glad to see you happy, even if you will not become king,” he said in a tone that suggested they’d discussed it before. “Now go and be with your chosen mate. You belong to her now.”

Davrakoss dipped his head in deference and lowered himself so you could climb up onto him. His wings opened and he gave one look back at his parents before he leapt off the mountain and soared away.

You pressed yourself close to his scales, feeling the rocking motion of his flight. It was peaceful in the sky, the only noise the whistling of the wind.

The trip back seemed longer and lazier than the trip to the mountain. Every now and then, Davrakoss would slow down until he was almost hovering. You would look over the edge of his back to see the ground beneath you. It was distant and tiny, like the map in the Queen’s chamber. It felt like the entire world had shrunken away, leaving only the two of you. You traced your fingers gently along the scales of Davrakoss’ back. He rumbled contentedly underneath you.

It seemed far too soon that Davrakoss folded in his wings and went into a low swoop into a clearing. He landed and you slid off his back, feet crunching in the undergrowth. Davrakoss transformed into his human form, stretching and rubbing his arms.

The carriage wasn’t there, so you sat together and waited. Davrakoss seemed more relaxed than you thought you had ever seen him. He stretched languidly, gazing at you with warm eyes. “You’re in a good mood,” you said.

“Mmhm,” he said. “I am.” He lifted one of his hands and played with the pin at your neck. You’d never stopped wearing it since he’d given it to you. “I’ve been having some thoughts.”

“About?” you prompted.

He undid the pin and examined it. “I don’t want you to be my servant anymore,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”

A little quiver of worry worked through your chest. You shoved it away. He wasn’t dismissing you. He loved you. “No?”

“It’s not fair for you to be servile to me,” Davrakoss said. “And you have already done so much more for me than I think any servant should be required to do. So, if you like, I want to give you something of a promotion.”

“Mmhm,” you said. “What kind of promotion?”

“I would like you to become my advisor,” he said. “I’m still going to need to do work as an ambassador, and while I have a better understanding of humanity, I think it would be good to have you there with me. Just to make sure I’m understanding everything correctly.” He paused, trying to read your face. “It’s not necessary that you take on the position, though. It’s only a suggestion.”

“If I don’t take the promotion, will I remain your servant?” you asked.

Davrakoss hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “I was going to suggest you come live in my quarters. You can occupy your time however you wish. I just thought that you would prefer to work with me.”        

There was a crunching, clattering noise and Davrakoss and you stood as the carriage rattled into the clearing. You moved to open the carriage door, but Davrakoss put a hand on your arm and nodded to the driver. He hopped down and, with a low bow, pulled open the door for the two of you.

“You’re not serving me anymore,” Davrakoss said. “We’re partners.” He squeezed your hand.

You smiled at him and stepped into the carriage.

The ride back was slow and generally uneventful. You ended up dozing on and off while Davrakoss stared out the window, watching the land roll by. When the carriage came to a stop, he reached out, offering you a hand.

“Come to my room with me,” he said. You nodded, taking his hand.

He held your hand all the way up to his room, which you appreciated, even if it made carrying the bags a little more difficult. Back in his room, you dropped the bags and started to put them away, but Davrakoss waved his hand at you. “Not your job anymore,” he said.

You straightened up. “It’s my job as long as there’s no one else to do it.”

“Yes, I suppose I’ll have to request a different servant. Kind of a shame considering I was used to you already,” he said. “In the meantime, I’ll help you.” You started to protest, but he waved you off again. “It won’t feel right if I don’t help out.”

Together, you unpacked your bags. You hesitate when you removed some of your clothes from your bag, but Davrakoss took them and hung them up without complaint. “If you’re not a servant anymore, you won’t be staying in their quarters,” he said. “Might as well start moving things up here.”

He had a point. You moved your clothes into his closet, straightening everything out. Davrakoss sat down on the bed, stretching with a luxurious sigh. “I have to admit, the beds were strange when I first came here, but I think I quite appreciate them now. After flying and riding in that carriage, I like being able to lie on something soft.”

“Maybe you can introduce wyverns to beds,” you suggested.

“I think a lot of them take pride in being uncomfortable,” he said. “I think that’s a bit ridiculous.” He stretched out, tail curling and flexing against the bedsheets. “Come lie down with me.”

You started over toward the bed, but the sight of a letter on Davrakoss’ desk caught your attention. You stopped and went to pick it up.

“What is it?” Davrakoss asked, sitting up.

The letter was stamped with the Queen’s seal. “A letter from her majesty,” you said.

Davrakoss stood up and walked to your side. “Really? What does it say?”

You undid the seal and unfurled the letter. “It says that she wants to meet you to discuss possible engagements,” you said. Your voice came out a little hollow.

Davrakoss took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Did she not understand when I said no the last time?”

“I’m sure she understood. She probably didn’t like it and decided she hadn’t heard it. If she wants you to get married, she’ll keep pushing for it no matter what.”

“We’ll have to have another meeting with her, then,” Davrakoss said. “I’m certainly not marrying.” He paused and gave you a look. “Unless, of course, you’re keen on the idea?”

You felt your face grow warm at his question. “I- um. Would you want to get married?”

He shrugged. “In all honesty, I don’t see much of a point of the ceremony? I don’t understand the point. For wyverns, a partnership is formed because the two partners say it’s been formed and is dissolved when the partners wish it to be dissolved. I don’t really see why anyone else’s opinions are brought into it.”

“It’s useful for childcare and money management and those sorts of things,” you said. “I think it’s more beneficial when you live in a social society than in a wyvern society.”

Davrakoss nodded. “I recognize that it’s not important to me, but it may be important to you. So, if you would like to get married, I’m not opposed.”

“Usually people don’t get married so quickly. It is supposed to be kind of permanent,” you said. Davrakoss tilted his head at you a little, but didn’t protest. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s something we need to do.”

“All right. If you’re all right with it,” he said. “Although, it occurs to me that marrying you might be a good way to get the queen off my back about marrying someone else. You can only marry one person, right?”

“Probably won’t work. One of the laws is that the Queen technically has to approve marriages for them to become official. It’s a technical law because there are registered officiants who can approve them in the place of the Queen, but if she were to find out that you married someone and she didn’t approve of it, she could nullify your marriage.”

Davrakoss’ frowned. “She couldn’t force me to marry with that, could she?”

“No, you have to give consent in order to be married.” You returned the letter to the desk and sighed, rubbing your hand over your forehead.

“Well, that’s something. I suppose we’ll have to talk this over with her. Perhaps the second time, she’ll be a little more amenable.”

“Can you tell her that you might be having a sibling? If she thinks you’re not the only heir to the kingdom, she might reconsider.”

“I’m not really supposed to say until the egg arrives. But if that is the only way to get her to drop the wedding bit, then I suppose I’ll do it.” He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, fingers twitching with nervousness.

You reached up and took his hands into yours. His fingers stilled as you held them and he gave a small smile. “Right. I should stay calm. Hopefully we can sort all of this easily enough.” He lifted your hands to hips lips and gave them a quick kiss. “I assure you, there is nothing she can do to take me away from you.”

Your lips curled up involuntarily and you gave a small laugh. “What will you do if she pushes you on it?”

Davrakoss gave a mischievous smile. “Then she will find out exactly how hard it is to force a wyvern to do something he doesn’t want to.” He pursed his lips and breathed out a small spout of fire before succumbing to a small coughing fit. “Ugh. I always forget how that stings.”

“You’re very intimidating,” you told him. He rolled his eyes, but they were still glittering with amusement.

Your stomach chose that moment to growl loudly enough to Davrakoss to hear and quirk an eyebrow at it. “You’re hungry?”

“We haven’t eaten much today,” you said a little defensively. Davrakoss smiled and bent down to give you a quick kiss.

“And what we have been eating probably hasn’t been the best diet for humans,” he added in a sympathetic tone. “You’re not really made to eat nothing but meat.” He looked thoughtful. “I suppose that if we were to end up living away from humans together, we would have to find something other than meat for you.”

“It’s probably a good thing we live in the palace for now, then,” you said. Davrakoss nodded.

“For now, anyway,” he said. “We should get something to eat. Come on.” He took hold of your hand and pulled you toward the door. You hurried after him.

Walking through the halls of the palace at Davrakoss’ arm was different than what you were used to. People most commonly ignored servants. Now people looked at you- well, mostly at Davrakoss, but you were of interest by just being near him. The looks depended on the class of the person giving them. Servants looked at you with intrigue and jealousy. Upper class nobles stared at you with open disdain or, occasionally, fear. You wondered what sort of reputation you had, being with Davrakoss. If he was openly considered to be a fearsome wyvern, then what would you be considered for being in a relationship with him?

Hm. Maybe you didn’t want to think about it. You had a feeling those rumors wouldn’t be favorable.

Davrakoss was as impervious to the stares as ever. You arrived in the kitchen and, with only a few words from Davrakoss, you had a meal for each of you. It was a noble meal, one you assumed they had put together at Davrakoss’ request. There was even a small sweet-cake which you picked up and nibbled delicately.

“I’ll have to find a way to get you more of those,” he said. “You really seem to like them.”

“Servants don’t get sugar a lot.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re technically a servant anymore,” Davrakoss said. “So, you can have all the sugar you want now.”

“It’s probably not good to have too much. I think if you eat a lot, it makes you sick. Even the nobles tend to avoid eating too much of it.”

“Maybe I’ll just make sure you have it on special occasions,” he said.

You returned to his room and ate together. Once he was finished eating, Davrakoss went over and picked up the letter on his desk. He skimmed through it again and let out a long, soft sigh.

“We should probably take care of this sooner rather than later,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll have to have a talk with the Queen.”

“We?” you repeated. Davrakoss gave a small nod.

“This concerns you too. And, considering the recent promotion you’ve gotten, I think it’s only fair that you accompany me.” His voice was light with the amusement of someone deliberately flouting a system.

The idea of being in a direct meeting with the Queen made your stomach turn over. Davrakoss caught the look on your face and moved back over to your side. “Are you all right?”

“It’s the idea of being in a meeting with the Queen,” you admitted. “It’s a bit nerve wracking.”

“You fell in love with a wyvern, but you find meeting with a human to be nerve wracking,” Davrakoss said. His eyes glimmered with amusement.

“You’re not scary,” you told him. “The Queen is terrifying.”

“I don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not that you consider me less scary than a middle-aged human woman,” he said. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment, though.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and when he leaned back, his teeth were long and sharp. “I assure you, there is nothing the Queen could do to separate us.”

He straightened up, lips covering his teeth again. “Now, why don’t you get ready for bed? If we have a meeting with the Queen tomorrow, we should both be well rested.” His fingers brushed delicately through your hair, touch soft. “I promise, I will never leave you.”

They were just words, but hearing them warmed your heart considerably.

[avmisworld]

BTS when you’re pregnant:

Kim Seokjin: 

Week 15 of pregnancy meant many things. Things like constantly feeling nauseous, your nose being annoyingly stuffy, and a small baby bump starting to form. It also meant cravings. So much cravings.

You shovel another spoon of peanut butter into your mouth, frowning slightly when you realize the jar is almost empty. You're pretty sure it's the second jar of PB you finished this week, and it's only Tuesday.

You're spread on the couch like a burrito, a huge fluffy blanket wrapped around you tightly, the television playing some cheesy drama, the kind you've been watching for the past weeks religiously.

Throwing away the now clean jar of the spread aside, you don't even hesitate to call your husband, Seokjin, pressing the ringing phone to your ear as you feel another wave of hunger cursing through your body like a hurricane.

"Hey, sweetheart", a small smile makes its way to your face at the sound of Jin's voice, and you feel your body relax for the first time today, curling a bit more into your gray couch.

"Hey", you mumble, blaming your pregnancy for the way your heart suddenly increased its pace, and you grip the phone even harder, trapping it between your ear and the white pillow supporting your back. "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home. Like, two minutes away.", Jin answers, and despite being very happy to finally see your lover after a long, lonely day, you really need your peanut butter. 

"Well…", you bite your lip before smiling sheepishly, despite Jin not being able to see your face. "Can you turn around? We ran out of peanut butter."

"You finished another jar?", your boyfriend asks, his voice somewhere between exasperated and disbelieving. He never quite understood your weird craving for the spread, mostly because it's such an American food. 

"Yeah.", you say bashfully, and Seokjin sighs against your ear. "Baby, it's all you are eating for the last few days. You need to keep your body healthy.", he says gently, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Of course, Jin was right. You had indeed been eating mostly peanut butter since your cravings started a few weeks ago, and your husband was going crazy seeing you sit on Reese's cups and peanut butter sandwiches all day long.

"But I want peanut butter", you whine into the phone, not caring the least about your childish behaviour, and Jin's silent for a second before he responds. 

"How about this? I come home, make you some real food, and if you don't want it, I'll go and buy peanut butter.", Seokjin suggests, and you wonder how the hell did you fall on this perfect man, who was so patient with you, but also firm, taking care of you in the best way possible.

You hesitate for a second, not really liking the idea, but something about Jin's tone tells you he won't take no for an answer, and making him turn around after he's practically here is plain cruel, even for your pregnancy-induced mind.

"Fine.", you agree reluctantly, and you hear the other sigh in relief, a slight chuckle in his voice when he says: "Good, because I'm already in the elevator of the building".

***

When Jin steps into the apartment, you're still sprawled all over the sofa, your hands on your small baby bump and legs extended carelessly.

"Sweetie", Jin walks over to you with a soft smile, a short chuckle escaping his lips when you tilt your head up for him, silently asking for a kiss.

He looks exhausted after a day of practicing nonstop, his slightly long black hair falling over his eyes carelessly, wearing a plain gray t-shirt with long sleeves and ripped boyfriend jeans. His eyes are red from lack of sleep and his lips look swollen, and you know it's because of his habit to bite them whenever he's stressed.

Your heart clenches painfully at the sight of your husband, and you feel bad for being so selfish, even if you're carrying a living human inside of you. Jin was struggling to juggle his busy life as an idol and dealing with his pregnant wife, and you knew it.

You wrap your arms around Jin's neck when he leans down, pressing his lush lips against yours, and sigh into his mouth contentedly, momentarily forgetting about the need to vomit and your angry appetite, and just enjoying the affection you've been missing the whole day.

"How's my baby doing?", Jin mutters when he pulls back, keeping his forehead pressed to yours, and you exhale dramatically, tucking your face in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. "Not good. I'm tired, and hungry and-"

"I meant the baby in your stomach", Jin says teasingly, letting out a high-pitched laugh when you pull away from him and send him a glare that could kill, your husband's humor existing even in times like this.

"Make me food, peasant. And it better be good.", you say flatly, raising an eyebrow at your lover, who simply shakes his head at you, muttering under his breath: "Nobody said pregnancy is like slavery".

You continue to stare at the TV blankly while your husband busies himself in the kitchen, humming to himself tunes and throwing around pots and pans loudly.

It must be around half an hour when Jin's head peeks out of the entrance to the kitchen, the apron tucked around his small waist covered with patches of flour and an assortment of colorful spices.

"It's ready!", he says with a toothy grin, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Get ready to get your mind blown.", He adds confidently, and you get up from the couch, hearing your stomach rumble as you get closer to the source of the amazing smell filling your apartment.

Jin always makes you food, and has always cooked for you since the two of you started dating, so you were very familiar with his food, but whatever was on the white porcelain plate on your kitchen table, you haven't seen before.

"What is that?", you ask curiously, eyebrows furrowed with confusion as you inspect the omelet/pancake, unidentified red and green vegetables and pieces of seafood inside of it. There's also some sort of dark dipping sauce in a small bowl. 

"That",Jin says proudly, his eyes twinkling the way they did when he was talking about something he was passionate about. "is my mother's famous Haemul Pajeon recipe. Our family's been eating this for years during cold winter nights. It's the best kind of comfort food."

You hum with interest, Jin's enthusiastic reaction lighting up some excitement inside of you, and sit down by the table, licking your lips as your boyfriend cuts you a slice of the large pancake, handing it over to you with an expecting grin.

You can't help but moan when you bite into the perfectly spiced Korean dish, closing your eyes with satisfaction as your taste buds enjoy for the first time in a while something that wasn't peanut butter.

"So?", Jin says mischievously, "Should I go buy some peanut butter to go with this?", he asks sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, too focused on the delicious food in front of you to answer him.

Later, when the two of you are cuddled up on the sofa, the fuzzy blanket wrapped around your bodies and Jin's warm hand rubbing circles onto your slowly-growing belly, you tilt your head back to meet your husband's soft brown eyes, sending him a small smile. "Thank you, baby. For the food. And I'm sorry for being a brat all of the time."

Jin laughs, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead and pulling you even closer to him. "It's okay. I love you no matter what. And our baby girl, of course."

You lay there for a few more minutes of content silence, enjoying the warmth of each other after a long day for both of you. You can't help but laugh, shaking your head when a sudden thought comes to your head, and Jin lets out a questioning noise against your nape. "What is it?"

"Nothing", you snort, trying to silence your giggles in the palm of your hand, before turning to look at your husband, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I just realized I found my new craving."

Min Yoongi:

Waking up to yourself in week 28 was sort of like waking up to your pet elephant. You were huge now, your stomach and boobs blocking everything in front of you.  

Yoongi was still asleep beside you, one hand thrown lazily across your thick waist, the other tucked behind his head. He looks peaceful, like he always does when he's asleep, his dark hair falling over his forehead messily, his small mouth closed and letting out these deep breaths, indicating he was sound asleep.

Sighing, you brush your husband's bangs away from his face, admiring his fair skin and soft facial features. How the hell was this perfect human being here with you, when you look like this? When you feel like this?

Not able to take the sudden wave of emotions, you get up from your shared bed slowly, biting your lip when your body screams at you to stay in bed and not move until you go into labor. Your boyfriend stays unmoving, as expected, and for once you're thankful for his deep slumbers. You don't want him to see you like this.

You walk out of the hallway slowly, padding out of your shared bedroom in your fuzzy white socks and one of Yoongi's old white T-shirts and shorts, which is sadly the only thing that fits you right now.

Making breakfast is the only thing you want to do right now, the best way to take your mind off of things, and you walk determinant to the kitchen, bracing your hand against the wall as you do.

Unfortunately, the long golden body mirror at the edge of the hallway catches your attention, and you can't help but stop in front of it, feeling your heart drop as you look at your reflection.

Pregnant women were supposed to have some sort of natural glow, right? They were supposed to feel like goddesses, like they were thriving. But you just felt like a wretched mess, and nothing more than that.

You were always an athletic person, and maybe also a little weight conscious. Suga gave you more self-confidence, helping you in his subtle actions and words, but right now, you felt like you were losing control over your own body, and you hated it. What if you stay like this forever?

You feel a wave of panic surge through you, tears brimming in your eyes as you stare at the girl in the mirror, with the blood-shot eyes from uncomfortable sleeping, the messy bun of dark hair and the pale skin from staying home these last few weeks.

"Babe?", you turn at the sound of your lover's voice, still hoarse from sleep, meeting his brown eyes with your own watery ones. At the sight of your trembling bottom lip and quiet sniffling, Yoongi's previously half-shut eyes widen, walking over to you quickly with a concerned expression.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", he asks with an uncharacteristically soft voice, his warm hands coming up to cup your face, wiping the small teardrops from your cheeks. His eyebrows are furrowed cutely, his face so close to yours you can smell his breath, still minty from brushing his teeth not too long ago.

You sob, the embarrassment of being caught like this only intensifying your feelings, and avoiding your husband's eyes, who turns your face back to him, gently yet firmly, his eyes showing no intent to back down.

"I just… I feel so ugly, Yoongi. And I'm so scared. Scared I'll stay like this forever, scared you think I'm not good enough…", the last words come out in a whisper, your cheeks burning bright red as your boyfriend stares at you incredulously, mouth slightly open.

"Y/N, I know you're pregnant and have all sorts of weird moods right now, but this… this is straight up ridiculous. I love you, I'm your husband, and I'll never leave you.", Yoongi says firmly, grabbing your shoulders tightly as if trying to pass his sincerity to you, and you feel ashamed now for making the love of your life look like this, so worried and sad over something so meaningless.

"I'm sorry", you whisper, because you have nothing else to say, and Suga clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he brings one hand up to tilt your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes, now much softer than they were seconds before, holding love and affection that's meant only for you.

"Y/N, it's okay to feel ugly. You don't have to feel like you're a failure and a horrible person for not enjoying every second of your pregnancy. It's hard, and I love you so much for going through this. I love you so much for giving me our child.", he finishes, pressing a warm kiss to your hand, and you can't help but sob, the unexpected speech from your husband making you feel so much things, especially because you know how hard it is for him to say what's on his mind, even to you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything, simply wrapping his arms around your large figure carefully, pulling you closer until your face is buried in the crook of his neck, his hands stroking your hair slowly as you cry your heart out, letting out weeks of hidden fears and insecurities wash away with your tears.

Maybe you don't feel like the prettiest human right now, but it doesn't matter because you'll have the most beautiful child in the world, exactly like his father.

Jung Hoseok:

You're on the sofa in the living room, texting your mother, who you think is more concerned about your pregnancy than you are, when you feel something strange in your stomach, almost like gas bubbles, or a growling tummy.

You make a face and set your phone aside, squirming a bit on the blue-colored couch in an attempt to get comfortable. This feeling has been happening for a few weeks now, these little flutterings in your stomach, but now it's much more distinctive, and you place a hand on your curvy belly, trying to calm down the strange movements inside of it.

And that's when you feel it. The smallest of kicks against your palm, just above your belly button, like the wings of a butterfly, and you gasp, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the feeling that you now know is your baby moving in the womb.

How didn't you think about this possibility? You're already at your 25th week, just around the time when you can start feeling your baby's "quickenings".

"Oh my God. I have to tell Hoseok.", you whisper to yourself after a few seconds of complete shock, still a little bit delirious, before rolling into a seating position, your elbows supporting the weight of your unnaturally heavy body.

"Hoseok!", you shout, waiting impatiently as you hear cabinets closing hastily, and then the sound of hurried footsteps running down the hallway, before your husband's head pops out of the corner, eyes wide and worried.

"I was just making you a bowl of cereal, like you wanted. Are you okay?", your boyfriend asks gently, coming closer to you and crouching in front of the couch to be at eye level with you, his eyes scanning you for any reason of discomfort.

Hoseok's wearing an oversized dark grey sweater, light grey shorts and his favorite purple sandals, and there's cute black round glasses perched on his nose that make you feel all kinds of things, especially matched with his hot messy brown hair, but you don't let yourself dwell on his attractive appearance at the moment.

"Hobi", you whisper, not even knowing how to tell him about the fact that you've just felt your first child move for the first time. 

Hoseok's eyes furrow, looking even more worried than before, and he reaches his hand out to squeeze yours gently, his skin warm against yours. "I'm here. Talk to me, baby."

You don't talk, but you do reach out to take your conjoined hands, and place them on your stomach, right where you felt the baby move a few seconds before.  

It's quiet for a few seconds, your poor husband's expressions growing more confused by the second, but you know he feels it as well when his eyes suddenly widen, his jaw dropping and the hand against you jolting with surprise.

"Oh my God.", he breathes out, voice slightly shaky when he looks at you, his expression excited but also a little unsure, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up. "Was that-"

"Yeah", you bite your lip, bringing up your interlocked hands to kiss J-hope's palm. "That's our baby boy, Hobi.", you say with a tone of disbelief that matches your husband's expression perfectly.

You're not really surprised when J-hope jumps up, knowing your boyfriend's energetic personality, but you still laugh when he starts dancing in front of you, matching his cries of happiness to his impressive popping skills.

The baby seems to feel your excitement and happiness, too, because you're pretty sure he moves even more than before, kicking even harder against your stomach, almost as if he was dancing in the womb as well.

"It looks like this kid will be a musician just like his dad.", you mumble later, when you and your husband are curled up on the sofa together, your hands wrapped around Hoseok's torso tightly and your head placed on his chest, the steady beating of his heart setting you in a dreamlike state. 

Hoseok laughs under you, and you feel the ripples underneath you, sending waves of warmth in your chest. He leans downwards towards you, pressing little butterfly kisses all over your face; your eyelids, your nose, cheeks and mouth.

He stops only when you're giggling like a teenage girl and pushing him away with your hands weakly, leaving one last peck on your lips before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face, pulling you even closer to him with his hands around your waist, caressing your baby bump carefully.

"Well, he might be a dancer like his dad, but that's not the most important thing", he says nonchalantly, and you raise your head to look at him, slightly surprised that Jung Hoseok, who loves music more than all the people you know combined, is saying that. "What's even more important, is that he'll be an angel like his mom."

Kim Namjoon:

When Namjoon walks through the doorway, you're already standing in front of it expectantly, two hands on your pudgy waist while your left leg is tapping on the floor steadily, a habit you have gained whenever you're nervous or stressed.

"Um… Hi, baby.", your husband says carefully, easily reading your body language and knowing something's wrong. "What's going on?"

He's dressed like he's been at work, which makes a lot of sense considering he was busy composing and producing the songs for the upcoming BTS album the whole day. His caramel hair is slicked back, pushed away from his face with hair gel, there are golden specs placed on the bottom of his nose, and he's wearing fashionable khakis tucked into a mint button up.

He looks tired, and what he really should be doing right now, instead of staring at you with a worried expression, is go take a long nap, but the growing panic in your chest is overwhelming, and you can't help but let it control you.

"We need to get the nursery ready", you announce, watching as Namjoon freezes on his way to you, his concerned expression changing into a more confused look, eyebrows furrowed over his brown eyes and his mouth pulled into a small frown.

"The nursery is ready, though?", Namjoon replies, but it sounds more like a question than a statement, uncertainty tainting his voice as he seems to run through all the things you bought for the room since you discovered you were pregnant almost 36 weeks ago.

"It's not!", you reply, and maybe it's the unexpectedly sharp tone of your voice, or the slight shake of your hands that seems to jolt your husband awake, understanding filling his gaze as he scans your face carefully, his expression not as lost as before.

The past week or so, you've had these weird jolts of inhuman energy, followed by the need to organize and clean everything in sight, otherwise known as, the internet so generously explained to you, nesting. Namjoon had come home too many times to find you cleaning some old cabinet you never opened, folding loads of laundry for no apparent reason, and rearranging furniture in the middle of the night.

Your husband was slightly confused by the phenomenon for sure, but didn't try to stop you from cleaning as much as you like, although he did warn you to be careful not to wear yourself out, and tried to help as much as he could to take some of the pressure off of you.

"Okay, baby.", your boyfriend starts carefully, stepping towards you slowly as if he was scared you'll run away. "Why don't you tell me what needs to be done so we can figure it out, hmm?", he asks gently, finally reaching you, and his strong arms come to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until your large belly meets his hard torso.

You let yourself relax slightly, your own hands dropping to your sides uselessly, the tension in your shoulders slowly decreasing, and exhale loudly. "We need to paint the room, and fold the clothes in the closet, and maybe buy more toys-"

"Okay, okay.", Namjoon's palm comes up to cup your face sweetly, stopping your frantic rant, and he sends you a dimpled smile that you can't help but smile back to, because you were always a sucker for the deep holes in Namjoon's cheeks, pregnant or not. "We'll do everything, I promise. Everything will be perfect when our baby comes along."

You nod, letting Namjoon press a soothing kiss to your temple, before he pulls back, leading you to your shared bedroom with a hand around your waist, taking off his shirt when you enter the room as well, clueless.

"What are you doing?", you ask, not hiding your confusion when Namjoon throws on himself one of his old, worn out t-shirts he never wears anymore, before tossing a similar one to you. 

"Well, if we're going to paint the nursery today, we should probably wear something comfortable.", your lover says with a wide grin, and you can't help but grin back, changing into the huge shirt and taking off your pyjama shorts, before following Namjoon to the nursery, your heart feeling lighter than it was the whole day.

Park Jimin:

You whimper when you vomit again, lurching over the toilet as you empty your stomach, which you're legitimately surprised has anything left inside of it at this rate.

You can hear Jimin say something above you, but it sounds far away, like your head is underwater. You can feel his hand in your hair, pushing the sticky strands away from your face, the other one rubbing your back soothingly as he continues to mumble sweet assurances in your ear, even if you can't quite understand them.

Morning sickness was apparently just a name, because you were getting sick at the most random hours of the day, and it was definitely not limited to the early hours of it.

Just a few minutes ago, in fact, you were perfectly fine, helping Jimin cut some vegetables for a healthy salad before you suddenly felt a strong wave of nausea course through you, sprinting to the bathroom without another word to your husband, who followed you immediately, calling you name worriedly.

And now you were here, bent over the toilet for the last five minutes, letting out whatever food you ate today or maybe your whole life, with Jimin supporting you from behind, holding you through it.

Your knuckles are white from grasping the edge of the toilet in a death grip, when you finally let out a shaky breath that's been caught in your throat since you got here, letting your head fall between your shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

"Baby", Jimin's voice is soft and steady, but you can hear the worry and sadness tinging it. He hated seeing you like this, and you know he's blaming himself for not being able to do anything to make it better, even if none of this is his fault. "Do you think you can get up?"

You manage to nod, but don't make any move to straighten up, instead letting your husband's strong hands wrap around your shoulders, picking you up and spinning you around gently to face him, every movement calculated and careful, making sure not to trigger your vomiting all over again.

Your boyfriend's brown eyes are filled with pity when he sees your state, your eyes teary and red, face pale and body weak and motionless against him. "Oh, sweetie", he mumbles, brushing away the teardrops staining your cheeks, his skin warm against yours.

He looks so beautiful right now, with his blonde hair, which you insisted on combing today just because you find it so soft and fun to play with, and Jimin could never really resist you. He's wearing a simple black sweater, gray sweatpants, and fuzzy white socks, and his soft skin is shining under the harsh light of the bathroom, giving him an angel-like halo.

You would kiss him, but you feel like the taste of your mouth is probably deadly right now, and you don't even have the energy to cross the two inches left between your lips. 

Jimin seems to understand you perfectly, because he wraps a hand around your thin waist, pulling you close until your face is tucked comfortably into the crook of his neck, leaving a soft, fleeting kiss on your dark hair. "Do you want to take some medicine, babe?", he asks, murmuring the words against your head, and you nod against him, too tired to answer.

You shriek when you suddenly find yourself in the air, Jimin lifting you bridal style as it it's not big deal, still making sure not to jostle you too much, and wrap your hands around the blonde's neck to steady yourself, glaring at him when he giggles cutely. "Yah, you should've warned me!", You scold him, but your cheeks are already heating up from the romantic gesture, and Jimin seems to realize, sending you a cheek grin.

"Sorry, babe.", Jimin apologizes sweetly, pressing another warm kiss to your red cheek as he continues trekking down the hall with you in his arms, not stopping until he reaches the kitchen, where the vegetables are still waiting to be eaten. 

Placing you on the gray counter, Jimin shuffles through the different cabinets in the room, throwing out different ointments and medical supplies until he fishes out what he was looking for with a small victory cry, a container of pills your doctor recommended you to take whenever you suffer from morning sickness. 

"Here, take this", Jimin passes you the box, before walking over to the kettle and switching it on, the machine immediately starting to let out soft whistling noises. "I'll make you some camomile tea, okay?"

You mumble a gentle 'thank you', your whole body filling with warmth when Jimin passes you a glass of water to down the pill with, watching you when you swallow it with cautious eyes. 

You can't help but feel like you're the luckiest girl in the world, to be married to this amazing man, to carry your shared baby with this angelic human, and it feels like your heart is expanding when you watch Jimin blow on your tea, making sure it's not too hot, before handing it to you, standing between your legs and rubbing the inside of your thighs soothingly.

So you set the hot beverage aside, instead wrapping your arms around Jimin's neck, and pull your lover as close as possible, pressing your lips to his soft ones, smiling when you he lets out a surprised noise, but still wraps his own arms around your lower back, the action already natural to him by now.

You kiss for a while, these lazy, loving kisses that you enjoy even more than the hot, heated ones, and you can't help but whine when Jimin pulls away, biting your bottom lip gently as he does. 

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes opening to meet your own, and there's this soft, dreamy smile on his face that makes you want to kiss him again, to tug him even closer to you. "That was nice baby, but you should drink your tea. Don't want you getting sick again."

You sigh, pouting with annoyance, but grab the mug of tea reluctantly, deciding not to make Jimin's life harder than it already is. "Fine, but only if I get cuddles."

Jimin laughs at that, pressing another peck to your pouty lips with a fond mumble of 'cutie', before pulling away and helping you off the counter, the grip on your waist steady and firm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Kim Taehyung:

"I'm nervous", you whisper to Taehyung, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you continue to walk down the hallway, getting closer and closer to the doctor's room at the end of it.

"Everything's going to be okay, don't worry.", your husband responds, sending you a soft smile, but you don't miss his slightly sweaty palms, and the nervous fluttering of his eyes. He was just as jittery as you.

Breathing through your nose, you stop in front of the tall door, gulping at the sight of the small sign mentioning the purpose of the room: "Doctor Choi Jisoo- Ultrasound and Pregnancy". It somehow made everything even more real.

Noticing your hesitation, Taehyung reaches in front of you, tapping the door with his knuckles before backing up, pulling you even closer to him before a soft feminine voice calls from inside. "Come in!"

You let out a shaky exhale, sending your lover another helpless look, and he smiles again, this time more genuinely, before pulling you to him to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm right here", he whispers, forehead pressed against yours, his thumbs stroking your cheeks soothingly, before he pulls away and opens the door.

The office is neat and pretty, light streaming in through large glass windows, a large white desk in front of them covered with organized piles of files, writing tools in a tall cup, and a small plate of mints. 

The woman sitting behind the desk fits the feeling of the office perfectly, a woman around her thirties, with shiny brown hair tucked into a tight bun, delicate features, and a slender figure clad in a white doctor's robe and a tight black pencil skirt reaching under her knee.

"Hello", the doctor sends you a small, yet kind-hearted smile, motioning you to sit down with a wave of her manicured hand. "You must be Kim Y/N. I'm Doctor Choi Jisoo, and I'll be doing your first ultrasound."

"Nice to meet you.", you reply, sending your own soft smile before continuing: "This is my husband, Kim Taehyung", you point at Taehyung, who bows his head towards the doctor respectfully. "Nice to meet you.", he says in his charmingly deep voice, still not letting go of your hand, placing it on his lap even after you sit down.

"Okay, let's get straight into it", the doctor says with a more formal voice, pointing at the clean, white bed in the edge of the room. "If you could lie there, please."

You get up, Taehyung following close behind you, and lie down on the hard mattress, watching as the doctor puts on gloves and takes a tube of clear-looking gel. "You're in your 12th week, right?", the doctor asks, lifting up your purple knit-sweater to reveal your tanned stomach as she gets ready to apply the gel.

"Yeah", you wince slightly when the cold gel touches your skin, and your boyfriend's by you in a second, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb along your knuckles to get you to relax.

"I'm fine", you promise when you see the worry in Taehyung's dark eyes, squeezing his hand two times to reassure him, and he squeezes back, obviously holding back from saying something to the doctor.

You hold your breath when the doctor puts the transducer on your stomach, and you feel Taehyung still beside you as well, the feeling almost like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for your baby to appear.

"There it is!", the doctor says, and you can't help but let out a gasp, bringing your hand to cover your mouth as tears well up in your eyes, because even if the picture is grainy, and the baby is so small, not bigger than a plum, you already know he or she is the prettiest child in the world.

You vaguely register Taehyung beside you, mumbling something like 'the most beautiful thing I've ever seen', but you're too caught up in your own feelings, you don't even register it, nor the assurances of the doctor, promising you the baby is in perfect health and shape.

There's a light tap on your shoulder, and then you're turning around to meet the doctor's smiling face, her eyes bright, twinkling with something that looks like pride, and she's patting your head gently, whispering: "I'll give you two some time alone".

The seconds after the doctor exits the room are filled with so much unspoken words, the only sound in the room being the steady breathing of the two of you. It's Taehyung who speaks first, his voice filled with emotion and love.

"Our baby is beautiful", he mumbles, looking down at you, and you want to run your hand down his cheeks and wipe the glistening tears that lay there, but you also want to keep this image of him in mind, so beautiful, with his slightly curly black hair, his nose red from crying, deep eyes shiny from unshed tears, and lips stretched into a boxy grin so wide it blinds you.

"Yeah", you say back, your own voice sounding so filled with love and indescribable joy, and you let Taehyung wipe the tears off your cheeks with his lips, kissing all over your face as your grasp him tightly, afraid that this is all some amazing dream that'll slip through your fingers.

Later, when the two of you are home, Taehyung admiring your not-so-noticeable baby bump with a gaze so loving it melts you inside, running his hand up and down your stomach and telling you stories of what he thinks you should name him (he was sure it was a boy), you can't help but let out a disbelieving laugh, your boyfriend raising his eyebrows at the sudden action.

"We did that", you breathe out, your mind running back to the first picture of your first baby, which was now tucked safely in the drawer by your body, another copy already sent to get framed. 

Taehyung laughs at that, leaning up to hover over you, his legs tangled with yours, and he runs his hands up your sides, smiling when you squirm from the ticklish sensation. "Yeah.", he replies, his eyes soft like melted caramel. "We did."

Jeon Jungkook:

"Y/N!", the sudden shout jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn around to your boyfriend, who's looking at you with raised eyebrows, his eyes showing confusion and slight worry. "I've called like two times already. What's gotten you so focused?"

"Sorry", you sigh, rubbing the space between your eyebrows. Now that you think about it, it seems like you've been on your laptop for a long time, judging by the fact that Jungkook's already home and the sun is setting outside, coloring the world in hues of orange and pink.

Jungkook doesn't answer, simply sliding his black duffle bag off his shoulder and walking over to the chair you're sitting on, standing behind it, close enough that you can feel the warmth emitting from his skin. 

"What are you doing?", he asks, staring at the open tabs in your laptop, numerous websites that range from "the size of your baby on week 23 of pregnancy", "ways to keep your body healthy during pregnancy", and "complications during labor".

You shrug, feeling slightly embarrassed at your boyfriend finding you surfing the internet like some crazed hag, and Jungkook seems to notice the change in your behaviour, because he turns the chair you're sitting on effortlessly, so you're facing him.

"Is everything okay?", Jungkook asks carefully, squatting down to your level and staring at you in the eyes, his expression slightly nervous like it always was when it came to talking about feelings.

You nod, but Jungkook doesn't seem to buy it, tilting your head up gently with a slim finger on your chin, so you have no choice but to look him in the eye. "You know you can tell me anything", he whispers, intelligent doe eyes holding so much sincerity and care that your heart stutters in your chest, and you sigh, running a distressed hand through your messy dark hair.

"I know, Kook.", you answer, pecking your husband's lips gratefully, and he hums against your lips, greatly satisfied by the gesture, before you pull back, biting your lip nervously while Jungkook stares at you, patiently waiting for you to say what's on your mind.

"I'm just", you start, your cheeks growing red at the thought of saying your cursed thoughts out loud, but you know better than to keep secrets from your husband, especially when it comes to your own child, so you grit your teeth and continue. "I'm scared I won't be a good mother. Like, what if I'm not responsible enough? I'm still so young, and so are you. Maybe having a kid at this age is crazy. What if we'll ruin his life?"

The silence that follows your ramble is deafening, Jungkook's mouth open slightly in surprise, his dark eyes wide, and you open your mouth to say something, anything to take back what you said, but Jungkook's already talking before you manage to.

"I don't know", your lover says, and you snap your head up on surprise, expecting some words of wisdom, or at the very least a clueless assurance. Jungkook seems to catch your shock, because he sends you a small, loving smile, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek gently with the back of his hand, something akin to awe in his eyes as he stares at you.

"All I know is, I love you.", Jungkook continues, his voice completely confident and firm, yet also soft and loving, and he reaches out to grasp your hands tightly, almost desperately, in his own warm hands. "I want to learn these things with you, Y/N. I want everything with you. The good and the bad, and everything in between."

You feel your eyes water at your husband's sincere words, his effect on you still the same even after years of marriage and dating, and you bring him forward to kiss him, even though it's more of a desperate clash of tongue and teeth than anything else.

You pull back after a few seconds to stare at Jungkook, stare at the man you love so dearly, the man you cherish in a place so deep in your heart that no one could ever replace. The human bunny you fell in love with all these years ago, with his soft black hair, his cute button nose you love to kiss, his plush pink lips that curve into that gorgeous smile of his, the shiny eyes that crinkle whenever he laughs at something silly you say.

"I Iove you too, Jungkookie.", you whisper in the soft atmosphere between you, pushing away the dark strands of hair from his forehead so you can drown even more in the eyes that hold all the secrets to the universe. "I'm sorry for all the stupid things I said."

"There's nothing stupid about being scared, love.", Jungkook mumbles, his own hands running down your long hair before pushing a loose strand behind your ear. "I'm scared too, but it's okay, because I have you. Don't be afraid to lean on me."

"I won't", you promise, letting Jungkook sweep you down into another lingering kiss, the taste of his lips so familiar to you, yet just as sweet as always. 

You can't help but giggle when Jungkook's lips leave your own, instead sliding down your throat, leaving little butterfly kisses on the way down, and stopping at your stomach, just where the baby is, and leaving another gentle kiss there. "I love you too, my little baby".

"Hey", you whine playfully, staring down at Jungkook with a fake glare, "I'm your baby", you complain, crossing your arms in front of your chest dramatically. 

Jungkook laughs, bunny grin back on display, and you feel your heart explode from the tremendous amount of love you feel, hugging the older man's broad chest to you when he says: "You're my big baby, and they're my little one. I love you both, my babies."